


Wordless

by imnotmadeofeyes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bully Louis, Bullying, CURRENTLY BEING EDITED BC I NEED TO PROVE A POINT, Fluff, High School, High School AU, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, M/M, Misunderstandings, Narry bromance, Obliviousness, Orphan Harry, POV: Harry, Trigger Warning: depression, late Niall/Ashton, past Niall/Josh, trigger warning: alcohol abuse, trigger warning: self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:17:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 85,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotmadeofeyes/pseuds/imnotmadeofeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry doesn’t speak. He never speaks. Nobody wants to hear him. He’s all alone. His dad died and his sister killed herself. When his mum dies from alcohol poisioning, he has to move in with her old friend Jay and her five children. Problem: her only son is Louis, Harry’s bully. They are different like day and night and even though they share history together, Loius hates Harry with a fiery passion. Will they find the way (back) to each other? Can anybody save Harry from his insecurities and what Louis does to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Wordless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6590263) by [Hazzaczuwa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazzaczuwa/pseuds/Hazzaczuwa)



> _Inspired by this prompt from ymcmb1-0000: Larry Highschool AU,Harry’s life is hell His father died a few years ago and his sister killed herself. He lives with his mother but Anne has an alcohol problem. Harry gets bullied in school and feels lonely most of the time because he doesn’t have any friends One day his mother is rushed to the hospital and a he has to move to a friend of hers As he arrives he realizes that he’s now living with Louis one of his bullies and they end up falling in love….kan you write this for me love? xx_
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> Be aware that I mean it with the trigger warnings, it's heavy shit here. But it'll get better throughout the story. I'll add or delete tags throughout the progress.

Harry had been a happy child. He never would’ve thought that at the age of 17 his life would be totally fucked up and he wished to be dead. He’d had a happy family and he’d had friends, everything had been fine. But then, when Harry was 14, his father had died. He hadn't been ill or something, so nobody saw it coming. It had been a car accident. A truck driver hadn't paid attention and he’d hit Harry's dad's car with full force.

They had said that his dad had been dead straight away, so he hadn't felt any pain. That was what had kept Harry standing, at least as far as it was possible for him. He had loved his dad so much, he had been his everything. And now he was dead, taken away from Harry because some silly man had been too tired to drive.

But still, he had stayed strong, even though his words got fewer and less cheery.

Harry's other family members didn't cope well with Mr. Styles’ dad either. Gemma, his older sister, had been 16 when their dad died. Despite her being older, she hadn’t been as strong as Harry. She’d gotten depressed and eventually she’d started self-harming. Harry wasn’t even 16 when she killed herself. The thing was, this death you could see coming. He often heard her crying, and when he was on garbage duty, he saw the bloody tissues – obviously he noticed the long sleeves. She hadn’t eaten properly for at least nine months and she’d barely slept normal hours. But nobody had been able to help her in any way.

His mum, his mum hadn’t been good at all. She had loved Harry's dad more than everything and afterwards it was hard for her – she had to take care of two teens, all alone. She had to work more and she wasn’t home a lot anymore. So she didn't notice Gemma's changes before they were too obvious. And when Gemma had killed herself with that bottle of pills and that huge glass of vodka, it was Anne who crumbled as well. She’d started drinking and she’d lost her job; Harry often thought it was like she didn’t care for anything anymore.

And Harry, Harry was alone. He was only 15, or 16 then, when all of this happened. He hadn't had really close friends since his dad's accident because he’d gotten distant, but now he was totally alone. He stopped speaking altogether, kept his eyes down constantly. He recognized his own behaviour, he knew it only all too well: Gemma hadn't been that different from how he was behaving now. He wouldn't eat, he cried himself to sleep every night, he didn't speak with anyone. And then he found Gem's razor blades. They had helped her coping with life, so why shouldn't they help him? And that had been it – before he’d known, he was lost in depression and cutting, and there was no one there to help him.

And his mum, she was only making it worse. She was drunk literally 24/7, they had no money and the flat was a mess. Harry worked at a bakery as often as possible, trying to save up enough money for the rent, for some food, and somehow he survived. He wasn't living though. He only existed. And even though it kind of sucked, he didn't want it to change. He liked the darkness surrounding him. Probably it'd eat him completely and he'd be finally reunited with the persons he loved most and missed like hell.

Sadly, it wasn't that easy. He couldn't just curl into a ball and stop existing. He had to face his life, his bad, oh so fucked up life. He had to cope with high school. He was alone all the time. Nobody wanted to sit next to him, nobody wanted to have lunch with him, nobody wanted to have a conversation with him. Or maybe he just didn't want them to.

Harry couldn't go unnoticed though. Some people noticed him and they seemed enjoy making fun of it – making fun of him. Most of the people in his school were kind enough to not do anything about it. Of course, they talked about him, but that was it. Except for that one group of boys – they were what made every day hell to Harry. They didn't punch him, no, there was never much of physical violence; instead, there wasn’t a day where they didn’t harass him verbally. And sometimes, some days when Harry was especially bad, he wanted them to punch him so that the numbness would go away. Harm was harm, no matter whether it was self-harm or not.

But Louis Tomlinson and his clique, including Liam Payne, Zayn Malik and Stanley Lucas, they didn't fight. They only knew how to press the right buttons to have Harry lying on the floor with his feels. Basically, not literally. They laughed about him, made fun of the fact that he never spoke and joked about his mum. Harry never said something to protect himself, and nobody ever helped him. And so he just tried to avoid his bullies, hating them, especially Louis, like hell.

Because Louis, Louis was a completely different story. They used to be friends before everything that went down in Harry’s life. Sometimes Harry wondered if Louis remembered. They had shared so many good memories; they had been more or less inseparable as little boys. Their mums had been close friends before Anne changed – only when Anne got bad and shut everyone out, they drifted apart. Louis had been Harry's very best friend, before he met Zayn, Liam and Stan and decided that shy, smart, curly-haired Harry wasn't cool enough for him.

Since then, they were some kinds of enemies. In middle school, they drifted apart in the first year and then just avoided each other. Louis was a year older, so that wasn't difficult at all. And Harry just let them be, since he had enough own problems to cope with. But in high school, Louis was the most popular guy in school, and the most popular guys in school usually like to pick on the shy, silent ones. So that's why Louis started calling Harry names and bullying him, and that’s why a part of Harry started hating Louis.

There was a small part of Harry that just wanted to have his old friend back. They had always said forever, they had always said they were like soul mates or something. Harry never tried to win Louis back though - why should he? He would only get even more hurt. Louis had made that clear with everything he’d done. And so he just went through all those insults, breaking at each word a little more. On better days he considered shouting at Louis, once or twice. 'We used to be best friends! Why don't you remember? Why can't you just still be friends with me?' But he never did. He had no chance. Louis had decided not to be friends with him. So Harry didn't want to bother him. He never wanted to bother anyone.

That's why he didn't talk to his mum as well. Her life was hard enough, having lost all the persons she loved. Harry felt like she forgot that he was there, she forgot that he lived. Anne was working like three different jobs – she found new ones that paid less after she lost her proper job – and she was very stressed out all the time. And not only that she was stressed, but she was depressed too. Harry knew that because she wasn't different from him. Just that she coped with it differently. She drank. Everyday it was a little more. You could smell the alcohol everywhere in their tiny flat and she looked like an alcoholic as well, red and greasy and so not pretty. And when she was home, he always stayed in his room no matter what. Because when she was out, she would start insulting him. Apparently it was his fault that his dad and his sister were dead. He knew that wasn't right but he never talked back to her.

To be honest, he wasn't sure when he said something for the last time. He didn't speak, not even in class. Nobody wanted to hear what he had to say. He was boring. Nobody loved him. Nobody cared. He didn't need to say something when they didn't even mention he was there. He just saw it like this. And so he kept his mouth shut and nobody noticed because nobody wanted to hear his voice.

And then came the one day in his life that would change everything.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1.

Harry pressed the books closer to his chest, his shoulders hunched up, his head down, his eyes glued to the floor. That was the usual way he tried to make his way through the crowd. The people around him didn't even look at him, and probably it was better like this. He was wearing some old sweater that was pretty much too big for his lanky frame, he hadn't showered since yesterday so his long curly hair was especially unruly this morning. He was too thin, too lanky and too pale in everything he was. Yeah, it was definitely better that they didn't look at him.

The seventeen-year-old reached his locker without any incidents, for which he was quite thankful. Probably, so Harry thought, this day could be one of the more silent, more peaceful ones. He didn't know that it was going to be another worst day of his life just yet. He didn't know his world would come crashing down just about half an hour later. He changed his books, making himself ready for the next period. He already knew almost everything of the stuff they were going to learn this year, still he wasn't going to say anything in class. He always wrote excellent exams - that should be enough to get through high school. And probably things would change in college. Probably things could get better.

… As if.

Harry started making his way over to the history room, trying not to move too quickly. His whole body hurt from last night's attack on himself. That was the only thing he was good at: dragging the blade across his skin, leaving red lines all over his body. His hips, his torso, his thighs, his arms, they were all covered in cuts and scars. He knew why his sister had done this. He understood now. And a part of him, a small part of him, wanted to do it like her: just dragging it one time too deep across his wrist, just cutting so that it didn't stop bleeding. But he was too scared. He was always scared of everything. He was such a coward.

"Hey faggot!"

It was a voice he only knew all too well. Harry jumped ever so slightly, ducking his head, begging in his head that Louis didn't talk to him. The thing was just, Louis never called others names. Harry was his favourite victim. Still, he was hoping. Probably he wouldn’t be alone in his situation anymore. Probably he'd be saved. But no, apparently Harry wasn't lucky.

"Douche, I'm talking to you!"

Harry was held back by rough hands on his shoulders, shoved against the lockers. He looked into those blue eyes that were once the ones he had loved most. It still hurt, thinking about that time back where things were good. It still hurt to think about the fact that this beautiful boy in front of him who hated him so much used to be his best friend not even ten years ago. But that was gone a long time now, and years change people. So now Harry was here, pressed up against a wall, staring anywhere but at his bully, even though Louis was everything but bad to look at. He was a beautiful, slender young man with wavy brown hair styled up in a messy quiff, finely defined features of sharp cheekbones and a soft jaw and a fit body even better accented by the skinny clothed he always wore. But Louis was holding him bruisingly hard, not knowing that he was probably opening some cuts with this, staring at the younger boy with so much hate that you could feel it seeping off him. That wasn't beautiful. Not at all. So he looked away from him, trying to ignore the pain that Louis caused him both physically and mentally.

"Are you ignoring me?" Louis asked sharply.

Harry didn't move, didn't say anything. He was shoved against the wall another time, harder, and now he had to hold back a yelp. It hurt. Didn't Louis see that he was hurting him? That was a silly question. Of course he knew he was hurting him. That was what he wanted to do: hurt him. Everybody liked to hurt him, Harry, the boy who never talked.

"You forget that he's mute" Liam spoke up from behind Louis. He was a bit taller than Louis, with broad shoulders and skinny clothes that were only showing off those long, slender muscles and that toned body. His hair was cut very short and brown in colour, his eyes brown like dark chocolate. He was quite a handsome boy, to say the least. But he was always looking coldly, without any feeling at Harry, so he didn't notice all too much of it.

"He's too dumb to remember how to speak" Zayn snickered. He was Liam's size, but skinnier and less muscular, with a sharp bone structure. He had earrings and that messy black quiff and a Pakistani tan and tattoos that made all the girls drool over him. And the way he was standing there so confidently showed all too well that he was, in fact, knowing exactly what the girls thought about him. And Harry, being the watching one, knew that he liked to take advantage of it.

The words stung in Harry's heart, straight there. He wasn't dumb, no. He would consider himself smart, really smart, if he had any kind of confidence. But he didn't say anything, he didn't protect himself. It had no use, it wasn't worth it – he wasn’t worth it. They wouldn't listen to him, they wouldn't care. So why should he try? He didn't want to use the energy he needed to get home on a thing like this. So he just stayed wordless, just like all those days before. It had been like this for two or three years now, he wasn't sure. But it had been a long time and it wasn't new to him.

"Shall we tell him?" Liam mocked.

"Nah" Zayn smirked at Harry before looking around to make sure that no teacher was near. "He's not worth it."

Louis let him down again with a final shove. He was smaller than Harry, still he was stronger. "You better don't ignore me next time, asshole"

The thing was Louis never called Harry by his name. Not even Styles, his last name. He just called him names, insulted him whenever he had the chance to. As if he didn't know what Harry's name was. But he did, and that was the saddest thing about it. He used to give him nicknames, back when they were friends. Harry still remembered everything exactly and vividly. Louis had liked to call him Hazza, Haz or even Harold. Sometimes he even used sweetcheeks or Hazza-bear, even though Harry didn't like those. It was just to mock him, just like Harry called him Boobear and Lou Lou to tease him. And mostly, Harry had enjoyed it because it was Louis and Louis always had made him smile.

He still regretted it that those times were gone now.

Harry collected the books that had slipped to the floor during the incident while he watched Louis and his two best friends stroll off. A little part of his brain registered that Stan wasn't with them. He was always with them, those for were Harry's nightmares. Probably the boy was ill or something. It wasn't anything Harry wanted to know. He just mentioned it. He actually mentioned a lot. He mentioned how nobody from the other students seemed to have mentioned what had happened here to him. He noticed how nobody seemed to care that he was there, fighting with his books. He noticed everything about the people around him. But they didn't notice him. They never did. And by now, Harry was used to it and it didn't hurt him all too bad.

The boy made his way over to the history class room just in the way he always moved. He moved through the body of students silently, always careful not to meet anyone’s eyes, not to touch anybody. He didn't like to be touched. He was always scared that they would feel the heat radiating off his cuts or that they would open them up again because they pressed onto them too hard. He probably self-harmed, but that didn't mean that he liked it that after some especially bad days he could barely move without pain anymore.

When he slipped into his seat in the farthest corner of the room, close to the window where he always sat, he was actually quite thankful that he chose to wear a black top today. He was pretty sure that the cuts on his shoulders, where Louis had shoved him, had reopened and started leaking again. And it would've been quite awkward had he worn something pale and then the others had seen the blood there. It would've been the worst thing ever. Nobody was ever supposed to find out about what he did to himself. Nobody should ever know anything about him ever again. He didn't want them to. He didn't trust them and he didn't want to bother other people with his silly problems. He was better off alone.

Slowly, the classroom was filling with the other students and then the teacher came in and started the lesson. They talked something about the Second World War, nothing interesting to Harry. Once this topic had fascinated him, but now he knew almost everything about it and since he just felt numb today, Harry didn't follow what the teacher was saying, just stared out of the window, watching the rain slowly fall onto the schoolyard.

It was November, late November, and the weather had been very grey and wet lately. Not that Harry cared. He actually quite liked this weather because it fit quite well to how he felt. He liked the rain and the wind. He liked how it seemed so depressing but was actually giving life to all the living things out there. The meaning behind the rain was so much more than just shit weather, at least Harry thought that. He didn't know whether others would agree with him if he told them that shit. Most likely they wouldn't even listen to what he wanted to say.

The lesson was already half over when there was a knock on the door. Harry didn't tear his gaze away from the raindrops running down the glass, but his teacher interrupted the lesson to call the person in. It was the secretary of the school, looking quite concerned and serious. She asked for a student and Harry didn't listen until someone repeated the name and turned around to look at him.

"Are you Harry Styles?" the older woman looked directly at him, and his heart thumped hardly in his chest. What was up? What had he done now? Nobody ever asked for him. Nobody ever looked at him. "Could you come with me? The principal wants to see you" He froze in his seat when the others started whispering and chuckling. That was something new - the silent kid being called into the principal's office. Harry wondered what he had done. Probably the football team was talking shit, telling them he'd insulted Louis or something.

He packed his things, shouldered his bag and followed that woman. She looked at him with a strange look of worry and he was getting even more nervous. What was up here? He followed after her, his heart thumping away heavily in his chest, his blood racing and his fingers sweating. What was all of this about? What could have happened? There were many scenarios playing in his mind, but most of them were just ridiculous. What if this wasn't about him? He just had this feeling, and most of the time he was right. So right now, he felt like this wasn't exactly about him, even though it would affect him.

And he had to find out that he was right only once again. The principal was a tall, broad man in a suit and with short grey hair and kind light brown eyes. Harry had seen him before on different occasions, but he had never actually spoken to him. That was just a thing that made him even more nervous. He almost tripped over his feet when he entered the small, modern office, but could cover it up quite well. He was good at acting.

"Harry" Mr Thornton said. "I'm sorry I have to interrupt the lesson for you."

Harry didn't even move, just staring down at his hands.

"Take a seat, please. Do you want to drink something?" The man was so kind to him, and he talked with a deep and calm voice that surely appeared soothing to other people. That didn't make Harry any more comfortable, not at all. He sat on the chair nervously, fiddling with his fingers, shaking his head at the question.

The principal sat down in front of his student. "This is about your mother, Harry."

Harry froze again, even though this time his eyes shot up as well. He had known that this wasn't about him. Instantly the voices in his head were shouting questions again. What happened to her? Even though she stopped caring quite some time ago, he started to worry now. She was everything he had, the only family member that wasn't dead. When something had happened to her, he would be completely alone. Like, no family at all. He would be an orphan, completely. All. Alone. And this was like his biggest fear since his dad had died those years ago. No, he still wasn't over this.

"I'm sorry but I have to tell you she's in hospital. They don't think she survives the day."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2.

Numbness filled his body, from his toes to his fingertips to the ends of his dark curls. For the first time in quite a while, Harry didn't notice anything that was happening around him. He had always at least watched the people around him. It was like being a wallflower - he liked to watch the other people without really being seen or involved. Maybe you could also explain it with his fear of being caught doing something, of people judging him, finding out his secrets. But now, he was just numb, there was just nothing.

His mum was going to die.

He was going to be an orphan.

He would end up alone like he'd always feared, and he got to know about it right in this moment.

These thoughts were all that could reach him from that moment on, all that could get through the thick fog that filled his mind. He buried further into himself, building up even more walls than there already were. He had to calm down, because he could feel the breakdown creeping up his back and he couldn't have a panic attack now, not here. He knew this was about to happen, he just knew it. He felt his chest tightening and his heart thumping too harshly and he heard nothing but the rushing of the blood in his ears. But he couldn't break down in front of anybody. He had to hide his secret.

That was everything that kept Harry calm on the outside while the secretary brought him to the hospital. He wasn't really taking in where he was going, he was just strolling after that woman, into her car. And he felt nothing. He just sat there and stared into space, his vision clouded with tears. The woman obviously pitied him, but when she wanted to pat his knee soothingly, he jerked away from her touch in fear. Yes, he feared being touched. Because when someone touched him now, he would break down. Shatter into pieces. Like the world that came crashing down around him just in that moment.

Harry didn't know if he really wanted to see his mother like this. He'd heard that when someone died and you saw them dead or dying, that would be the image that would always stick to your mind when you thought about them. And Harry could already picture his mum there, pale and lifeless, with all those machines around her, so bony and fragile, so still, with her skin just as white as the sheets. Did he really want to remember her like this? His mum had always been fierce, that was what he wanted to remember about her. She had been a gorgeous woman, and he wanted to keep that in mind. Not the fact that she drunk herself to death like he didn't even exist.

But he couldn't just stay away, could he? That would be gross, heartless. Even after everything that had happened, he loved his mum and he was everything she had left just like she was everything he had left. He wanted, no, he needed to say goodbye to her. She was the last part of his family who was living, she was the only thing that had kept him alive for the past year or two. He needed to say goodbye, even though he wouldn't consider himself strong enough. He owed her that.

They reached the hospital and he heard the woman asking whether she should come in with him through thick clouds that filled his mind. He shook his head ever so slightly, not looking at her at all, getting out of that car into the November rain. It rained stronger now, but he didn't care. Harry just went over to the entrance slowly, in a trance or something. He had his hands shoved into his pockets to hide that they were shaking like never before, and held his face down, his dull green eyes glued to the floor.

The nurse in the entrance stopped him and asked who he wanted to visit. He looked up at her with huge eyes that were full of sadness. He never spoke, that was true. But sometimes you just don't have any other choice. So now his lips parted not to let out a breath but to let out a noise. His voice was surprisingly dark and raspy, you could actually hear that it hadn't been used properly for a long time, when he whispered this five little words.

"Anne Styles. I'm her son."

He was dripping wet from the rain outside, even when the walk from the car to the door wasn't much longer than fifty metres or something. His curls were flattened with water and he shivered underneath his soaked clothes, but to him it didn't matter. The nurse shot him a slightly annoyed glare, but he didn't care. Probably, Harry didn't even notice. He waited for her to look up the room number and then just nodded when she asked him whether she should show him where his mum was.

Harry didn't like when people were around him, especially strangers. He didn't like their curious looks or their faked friendliness or the fact that sometimes he had to talk to them. But he would just get lost in that huge hospital if she didn't accompany him, he wasn't one to get along in buildings like this. Everything just looked the same, he thought. And he wasn't in the best state to look for where he was going. So he let the nurse from the entrance lead him the way up into the ICU, where they had put her. How could her condition be so bad that they'd put her in intense care?

He couldn't believe that his family was this far down now. A few years ago, they had been happy, they'd had many friends and were like the perfect family: loving parents, happy children, a pretty home. And now they were broken, now he was the only one left. His father was dead, his sister killed herself and now his mum was dead, too – or she would be, in no more than a couple of hours if he could believe the headmaster's words. Harry's brain couldn't quite grasp it. Why did this happen to him? What had he done that life had to treat him that awfully? What did he do to deserve it? Well, he was a nothing. So this probably wasn't even about him - the leading power just forgot about him.

The nurse stopped and smiled pitifully at him. He hated it when people looked at him, but right now he couldn't care less. "Here we are. Step in when you're ready and take all the time you need. My colleagues are just around the corner, tell them when you're leaving." She didn't touch him when she left, even though for a second it seemed like she considered patting his shoulder. Harry didn't even look at her, he just stared at the door in front of him.

He wasn't ready. No, Harry definitely wasn't ready to see his own mother die. That couldn't be happening. That would mean he would be totally alone. He would move in with strangers .. where would he live now? He wasn't allowed to live on his own for another two years or something because he was only sixteen. He couldn't just live in their flat and pretend nothing happened. Where would he live? In a boarding school? In an orphanage? He didn't know, and right now, this wasn't exactly his biggest problem. Even though the thoughts about his so called future were a welcome distraction, he shouldn't get distracted now.

Behind that door, his mum was dying. He should be behind that door, telling her how much he loved her and how he wished this wasn't happening. Harry should be there for his mum even though she had never been there for him during the past years. Yet, he was a different person than him. He was there when she needed him. And right now, she definitely needed him. At least he needed to say goodbye. He would never be ready, so it was the best if he just went inside and did what needed to be done.

Harry inhaled deeply and pressed the door handle down, opening the door. He was cold and wet, still he was sweating and his heart was racing wildly in his chest. He was nervous and he didn't know if he really wanted to see that. But he had no choice, had he? No, he definitely had no choice. He wanted to be a better person than her and that meant that he had to be brave, for one time in his grey worthless life.

Anne just looked as small and fragile as Harry expected her to be. She was pale under that unwashed dark hair, with thick rings under her closed eyes and the veins on her nose and lids sticking out deep purple from the almost white skin. She looked much older than she really was, and she was so skinny, her bones sticking out from under the skin.

It hurt Harry to see his mum like that, with all those things around her, everything that kept her alive. He wondered where the woman he used to love was gone. But he already knew the answer. She died together with the love of her life and then again together with her daughter. A mother shouldn't bury her own daughter, and a mother shouldn't have to blame herself for her daughter committing suicide. Yet, this was exactly what Anne had lived through. And Harry couldn't blame her.

Harry couldn't blame her for being hurt. He couldn't blame her for giving up. He couldn't blame her for trying to forget everything. He couldn't blame her for starting to drink. He couldn't blame her for drowning in work and alcohol. He couldn't blame her for stopping to care about her own son. He just couldn't, not in this moment where he saw her laying there slowly dying from all the poison in her blood, and not in any other moment that came after.

Harry sat down by her side and took her skinny, bony, fragile hand in his own. His hand seemed so much bigger than hers, but both were cold and somewhat lanky. He didn't do anything else but staring at her, mesmerizing every little detail of her face. He just felt empty, he felt nothing, his mind was empty. He couldn't cry, even though he probably should; he just didn't feel like it. He hadn't really wrapped his mind around it yet. And he didn't speak to her because, well, he just didn't. He could tell her all those things that he wanted to tell her, and he knew exactly what he wanted to tell her, but he just said nothing. He never said anything, probably that was his biggest problem.

But now that his mind was just as empty as the room around him, he at least thought what he would say. Harry didn't know if it made any difference. His mum wouldn't understand him either way and it was kind of more honest if he just thought this.

_Mum I'm so sorry. I have been a shit son. I should've done something to get you away from the alcohol. I should've helped you. But my life has been hard as well and I thought you didn't need help. But you did and I didn't notice and I'm just sorry about that. I hope you're going to be happy wherever you are going to be when it's over. I hope you will meet Dad and Gem again - I bet they miss you just like you miss them. Just like we miss them. I'm gonna miss you as well. You are my mum, after all. And you know what? I kinda hope I'm following you soon after. Gem was right, with killing herself. This life isn't worth it. It just isn't. So go there, mum, go there and be happy for me. I love you._

It was like Harry's mum had heard those words. The machines went off and the alarm slid through the silence in the room. Harry didn't know how long he just sat there, trapped in his own thoughts. He wasn't surprised to hear it going off. He said a last silent goodbye, squeezed the dead hand and took a step back when the nurses and doctors rushed into the room to control her. They didn't try to help her, they just knew it was over. They turned off the machines and someone announced Anne's time of death.

And Harry just watched it, wordless, feeling nothing. He was sure that no matter what came after death was better than the shit he was trapped in right now, the shit she'd been trapped in before. She would be reunited with the rest of the family and that thought kept him together right now. He didn't break down. He just stepped out of the room and down the corridor. He didn't know where he should go. He had nothing to go to. He had no one to go to.

He was alone, and he was homeless all of a sudden – those were the first thoughts that shot through his head. He knew that the usual reaction of people in this situation was that they cried about it. But for some reason, he just couldn't. He didn't go fast, just to the next few chairs waiting on the corridor for persons like him and sat down there. He stared at the wall in front of him. A nurse came over, asking him if he needed help. Her eyes said that she knew that his mum had just died. He shook his head without thinking about it. No, he didn't need anything.

Except maybe someone who looked after him.

The thing was fate had someone like this.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3.

He just sat there, staring at the wall and letting his thoughts flow – not that there was much going through his mind, anyways. He was just - numb, yeah. He didn't feel anything in that moment. He was supposed to be sad, devastated, scared. His mum was dead, for god's sake! He was totally alone now, he didn't even have a home now that his mum died. But he didn't really feel any sadness, he didn't feel like crying and screaming or anything. He wanted to go home, but not to get away from what had happened in the last hour.

The curly haired boy scratched his wrist absentmindedly. The urge was back even stronger than before, stronger than it had been in a long time. He knew that there was a little box with a razor in his pocket, it was like there was radiating something off it that made his thing tingle underneath his jeans pocket. His upper thigh seemed to heat up, as if to remind him that there were still cuts healing on his thighs.

Harry wanted to feel the oh-so-familiar pain again. He needed to feel the pain of something slicing his skin to make the numbness go away. He needed to see the blood running down his wrists to make him feel alive again. That was what he wanted - he wanted to feel something. He wanted to feel alive. He should feel something when his mum died. But no, there was just nothing. Not because he didn't love her, but because he wasn't able to feel it.

Everywhere else he would just go to the nearest toilets, pull up his sleeve and then cut, cut, cut. Sit there for a while, pressing toilet paper on the cuts until they stopped bleeding and then just stuff it into the bin or flush them down the toilet and leave like nothing had happened at all. But he was in a fucking hospital and they would surely notice it - everyone was a damn doctor here. They would definitely be able to read the signs. That was why he just wanted to go home, into his safe space. He wanted to be alone and let it all out.

He just had to get up and -

"Harry!"

The young boy snapped out of his trance, looking up in surprise and something that could be rated as fear. Then he realized that he used to hear the voice almost every day and that he used to know that woman just all too well. He hadn't seen her that often in the past two years. She hadn't changed that much though, still small, slender and utterly beautiful with that long dark hair and those eyes. Those huge gorgeous blue eyes.

Louis' eyes.

Johannah Tomlinson - also known as Jay - had been his mother's best friend. They had been as close as possible as grown up women before … well, before everything happened. Before everything crashed down. They had hung out almost every day and that was why Louis and Harry had been that close. They had almost grown up like siblings. The women were best friends and the boys had been just as close, if not even closer.

But time had broken both their friendships. Jay couldn't cope with Anne's behaviour anymore when she started drinking more and more. And Louis, well, Louis had decided that Harry wasn't cool enough. He still couldn't understand it. Alright, Harry was the smart one, he always had good grades, and he rather made music than did sports. That was why their families grew apart, faster rather than slower. Louis started bullying Harry and Jay wasn't there anymore to help her friend even though she still smiled at Harry when they met in the street.

Right now, in that moment, she didn't smile at him, but she looked at him seriously and her eyes were same as Louis' and yet so different because hers were full of concern and care for the teenager. Not like Louis', cold and filled with hate.

"I'm so sorry about your mum." Jay said, almost a little awkward, like she didn't know what to say. Most likely she didn't. What do you tell a teenager who just lost the last piece of family he had? Harry didn't know it himself. What did he want to hear? Did he even want to hear anything? No, but he never did. He always just wanted to be alone and to be left in peace, so asking him that question was useless.

So he just shrugged, breaking his eyes away from the woman's gaze.

Jay sat down beside him. "I was asked to look after you, Harry, and I agreed gladly. You're going to stay with me and my family, OK? At least for the next few weeks - we have to see if there are any distant family members of you who you can stay with, but as long as there are none found, you live in our house. Is that fine with you?" she explained him, in a soft and soothing voice. She talked to him like he could explode and go crazy any moment.

She was probably right with treating him like that

Harry was frozen to the spot, his eyes wide and his breathing stuttered, stopped, before picking up pace. Holy fucking shit. He couldn't move in with them. This wasn't about Jay, Jay was fine. She was a smart, kind, caring person and he could easily imagine to really enjoy living with her. And her four little daughters were nice as well - at least they had been when he had last seen them. He had always liked children, and she had those two young twin girls, Daisy and Phoebe. And after what he remembered, Fizzy and Lottie were gorgeous as well.

There was just that one little problem. More like, that one big problem. Louis. Louis was Jay's son and the girls' bigger brother. He was a part of the family Harry should move in with. That meant that he would live in one house with his bully. He wouldn't have only to stand his attacks in school, but he would have to fear them at home as well. He couldn't just hide in the tiny flat they had called their own. He had to face him all the time, literally 24/7.

Honestly, they could just give him a bottle of pills and a bottle of vodka as well, that would be an a lot easier way to kill him.

Slowly, Harry shook his head, hesitantly at first, then going faster. No. He just couldn't do that. That was literally the best excuse to just commit suicide then and there. Living in a house with Louis fucking Tomlinson? The boy who took enjoyment from bullying him all the time, shoving him into lockers and making his life to damn hell should be the one he had to stay with straight after his mum died? That had to be a fucking joke. Oh, and did he mentioned that it was goddamn impossible?

Jay sighed. "I know you and Louis grew apart during the last few years" So she didn't know what fucked up shit her son was doing in school. Great. A-fucking-mazing. "But you need a place to sleep and someone to look after you. You can't just live on your own." He understood that, but there was an orphanage not all too far away and the city had so many hotels as well! But then Jay said what had Harry give in in the end. "Your mum would've wanted that."

Harry winced. He knew she was right, that woman who used to be someone like a second mother to him. Anne had loved Jay and he knew from Anne's sober days that she missed the other woman like hell. They had been so good friends from early high school on - until Anne's husband and her daughter died so shortly after one another. Jay was a caring person, a not judging one, still Harry could fully understand that she had to leave in the end. He wouldn't have stayed with Anne as well if he had the choice.

Well, probably he had. Harry loved her, he just did. That was why he gave in. He still remembered, in the time of primary school when his mum started working again. Sometimes she hadn't been able to pick him up from school or be home when he arrived with the bus, so instead Harry had gone to the Tomlinson's. He got lunch there, Jay helped him with the homework and then he and Louis had spent their afternoons together. He had never wanted to go home when Anne picked him up after her shift. That time at their house had been so perfect. He had loved it.

Yet, things had changed. Things had changed so massively. If Louis and Harry still would've been friends, he surely would be fine with moving in with their family. If they were just grown apart, he would probably be a little hesitant, but still fine with it. But there was nothing left between them, no friendship, no anything. There was just hate, fiercely burning and always growing between the two guys, holding them apart and even shoving them further away from each other.

Harry couldn't stand living with Louis. He barely survived the days. He was tired of living, his life was so fucked up. It wasn't a question anymore if he would end it all, just like Gemma and Anne. No, it was the question when he would do it. And now, now that he had to move in with Louis and his mum wasn't there anymore, it would most likely be sooner rather than later. There was nobody left who would care when he left, there was nobody he could hurt or leave with his death. He could just go somewhere and do that fucking final slice and die and be happy again.

Still, he had to find the privacy first.

Harry didn't look up, but he nodded, shyly, hesitantly.

Jay smiled fondly. "All right then. So how about we go to your flat and grab a few things and then we go home and I make some nice lunch? The girls should be home by the time we arrive" she suggested softly.

There was no 'home' in Harry's life. Like she just explained a couple of minutes before, he couldn't stay in the flat of him and his mum alone. He was homeless and alone and he deserved it. He did so many wrong things in the past years that he deserved to be punished like this. He wasn't worth someone who loved him, he wasn't worth a home. He was worth nothing.

Yet, he didn't say anything. Harry just nodded silently, because that was just the way it was. Harry never complained, he never spoke up or talked back. He never ever said something. There was just nobody who wanted to listen to what he had to say. So he just stayed wordless and followed that woman who would now kind of be his mother.

They went down in the elevator and when they were in the small cubicle with the mirror walls and the tile floor and Harry had to concentrate on breathing to not get claustrophobic, Jay spoke up again. Apparently, she was concerned about the well-being of the boy.

"It has to be a shock, seeing your mum like that."

Harry shrugged.

"You can tell me, you know?"

Harry shrugged again.

Jay looked at him with a wrinkled forehead. "Why don't you speak to me? Are you scared?" Harry didn't react at all, didn't even look at her. She sighed contently, smiling reassuringly. "I bet it's the shock. But you're going to be fine. Everything's going to be just fine."

And she reached out to caress Harry's shoulder. Her mistake. Harry shied away from the hand, away from the touch, his eyes so huge and green and oh-so-fearful that it almost hurt physically. He looked like a scared animal. Probably that wasn't that far from what he was. Nobody had touched him softly in the past few years. Whenever somebody had reached out for him, they had never wanted to do anything else but hurt him. He knew that Jay didn't want that. She was a good person, he knew that. But he was so used to getting hurt when somebody touched him that he already reacted on reflex.

Jay did a good job at hiding the hurt and disappointment that Harry barely noticed flashing across her face behind a smile. "If you ever need someone, I'm there, OK? I don't want to be a mother to you, I know I couldn't ever replace her. But I want to be your friend." Harry just stared at her, and Jay got a little bit nervous, tucking a straw of dark hair behind her ear. "It's too early, isn't it? I'll just shut up before I say something wrong."

Harry just looked down on the floor, his hands tucked into his pockets, his one hand fisting around the box that held his saviour, his escape. And he followed Jay out of the hospital to the minivan she was driving. And he let himself be driven to his home probably for the last time. The smell of the car was so much of his past, it smelled like Jay and Tomlinson and so much like home that it almost hurt. He wanted that time back. The good old times.

But they were gone and now he had no future as well. He was fucked up. That was why he silently shook his head when Jay pulled up in front of the building where Harry and his mum used to live and she asked him if he wanted her to come upstairs into the flat with him. He wanted to go alone there. He wanted to go alone and never come back again.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry was used to trotting up these stairs - the elevator had already been broken when Harry and Anne had moved in his building. The flat was in the fourth floor, but he didn't care. This was what he knew, this was the only place that even came near the meaning of home to him.

Still, something made Harry nervous about him now. This was probably the last time he would be here. Wrong, this _was_ the last time he would go down these corridors. He would never see all of this again. Not because he moved away from here, he didn't plan on that. More because he would never leave the flat when he entered it now. Like, he would be dead soon and that was more than fine with him.

A dark excitement grew in the pit of Harry's stomach. He had waited to reach this point so long - the only escape he'd ever had, the only way to get out of the dark place that was his mind. His long bony fingers started shaking even worse now and he had trouble unlocking the door.

The flat was still as dark, messy and lifeless as he had left it that morning, and he didn't know whether he liked it. A part of him had hoped that his mum would be here, completely healthy in her unhealthy lifestyle. But no, she wasn't, obviously. And it was just the biggest reason why he felt like, you know, dying. He looked around in the room he knew so well, and once again he felt dull and shitty.

The curtains were closed, bottles and garbage strewn over the floor. The room had been nice when they had first moved in, with a light brown carpet and light yellow walls and nice furniture placed perfectly, homey. Not it was just disgusting, it smelled of vomit and alcohol and smoke from countless cigarettes hung underneath the ceiling, like in an old pub.

It was probably gross, but this was Harry's home. This garbage dump of a flat was his escape place, at least as long as his mum wasn't home - and she barely ever was. But when she was, she was always here, in this room. When they first moved in here, before her alcohol problem took a hold of her, they often just sat here talking, about whatever happened. It was nice. But when the alcohol had her in its claws, she was only there when she hadn't found a guy to fuck her in her drunkenness. And when he stumbled into this room while she was there, she would scream at him, hurt him with what she said.

So, when you look at this, it wasn't the whole flat that was his home. The kitchen wasn't, the living room wasn't, the bathroom, well, it wasn't exactly. But there was one room, behind that tiny door in the last corner, that was absolutely different from the other rooms of the flat. Behind the door there was a tiny room, not much bigger than the flat where didn't even fit in a tub. It was tidy and the window was cleaned and let in fresh air. You didn't smell anything of the things that filled the living room.

This room, tidy and nice, was Harry's room. This was definitely his safe space, Harry's escape - everything he had. He closed the door behind himself and went straight over to his nightstand, as almost always. There, hidden between some old stuff that nobody ever needed, were his razors. The ones that he would use now. Fact was that he always had one with him. But it wasn't exactly sharp, he couldn't do what he wanted with his razor. He never took sharp razors with him when he went out in public. Even when he did cut in school, he couldn't cut too deep with these. There he couldn't cut as much.

But here he wasn't in public. He could cut deep here. And he was going to do so.

Harry's fingers were trembling while he pulled up his sleeve. His arm was screwed, scars covering skin, cuts covering scars. They were criss-crossing across, longer or shorter ones, only scratches or deep wounds that he had to close again somehow. He stared at it for a while, hypnotized from the strange beauty. And it was somehow beautiful, the scarred skin and the red cuts. The boy's eyes were fixed on his arm, slowly turning it upside down. The cuts there were newer, angry red and swollen.

And now they came, now all those thoughts that he had successfully avoided this day were here again. All those demons and insecurities filled Harry's head now. _Never good enough. Coward. Worthless. Faggot. Freak. Forever alone. Ugly. Weak. Weirdo. Outcast. Nobody cared. Lonely. Hurt._ They were chanting, no, shouting in his head.

But one cut, one cut could end it all. He could be free now.

Harry didn't feel the tears flowing down his skin. The blood was rushing through his veins and the sound of that filled his ears, his heart was thumping too harsh and uneven in his ribcage. He was shaking when he pulled out one razor of the collection. It was new, completely, unused, sharp and silver blinking in the dull light coming in through the window. Harry was kneeling on the floor besides his bed, bent forward and his forehead almost touching the bedside table. How many nights had he spent there, hiding from the world, crying on the floor.

Harry put the blade on his arm, under the crook of his elbow, ready to just pull it down the length of his arm. He just had to press down and slice it open all the way. It would be so easy. And nobody would care since all persons who had ever loved him were dead as mice. He would be free and probably he would see them again, his family. And even when he wouldn't everything would just be fine because everything was better than what he had right now. He just had to fucking press down.

So why couldn't he just do it?

Harry felt like he was frozen. He couldn't control his body, he couldn't move anything. He couldn't kill himself. He knew how easy it would be, and he knew he wouldn't regret it. And he would hurt nobody, which was what he had lived for the past few years. Still, he couldn't do it, his whole body was against his fucked up mind. He had cut often like this, cuts following the length of his arm. Never exactly in the middle, never hitting a vein. He was used to hurting himself. But he couldn't end it with a slice. He was too much of a coward. He was too weak, too pathetic.

Now, Harry changed the direction of the blade, cutting three times until the blood was dripping onto the wooden floor. If you looked close enough you could see the old drops there which he had just lazily wiped away. The relief of the pain washed over him when the boy grabbed a tissue and pressed it to the cuts. This was why he had come here. He wasn't here to kill himself, no matter how much he wanted it, and no matter how fucked up that was. Harry looked after his cuts, bandaging his arm and then slowly pulling down the sleeve again. Jay wouldn't see, he wouldn't mention it.

He was still alive. Fucking shit.

Somewhere Harry found the strength to stand up again. He wiped his face, wiped the tears away in an angry motion. Anger was building inside him, anger about himself. He wanted to be dead so bad. So so so bad that you could never even guess it. But he was too much of a coward to slice open his wrist. Well, if that wasn't sarcasm. There was another method and he was sure he would be able to do so - just swallow a bottle of pills and fall asleep on his bed to never wake up again. But as far as he knew they had none - he had to use his sister's sleeping pills to fall asleep when his mum had brought a man with her and they were fucking in the neighbour room. And then they had no money to buy new ones. So there was nothing.

Apparently, he didn't deserve to end his pain.

Harry was in a trance when he packed up his things. In one bag he pushed in his clothes messily, sweaters, long sleeved shirts and jeans, along with some school things that didn't fit in his school bag. Then another bag with toothpaste and other bath things he would need. And luckily it was still enough space for the seven books he owned and that old barely working laptop that was over from his sister and he hadn't been able to sell it as well as the rest of her things. That was all that he had - two bags and his school bag. That was everything he owned. He had to sell the other stuff to hold the flat when his mum had lost one of her little jobs.

The last thing he did was slipping the razors into his pocket - he wouldn't pack them with the other stuff. They were the only thing that really meant something to him. He wiped away the blood and then hid his tissues. Not that anyone would care when they would come to empty the flat. But still, it was something he always did. He couldn't break his routine when everything else was broken.

Finally, Harry stood in his door, looking around in his room. He would honestly miss it. It had been the only home he had allowed himself to have. And now even that was taken away from him - and he realized that he had forgotten something. He hurried over to the bed and lifted the mattress. There, the little black box. A sad smile ghosted over his features, only a second. He pressed it to his chest for a second before he put it in one of the bags where he found some space. He couldn't just forget it here.

When Harry left the flat, fighting the breakdown back (what was easier now 'cause he could still feel his cuts), he found Jay on the stairs on her way to him.

"Harry! I was worried 'cause it took you so long. Are you ready, love?"

And Harry nodded, wordless, and followed her downstairs, out of the darkness of that building into the now again flowing November rain. He wasn't ready to face her family. Or her. Or life. But right now, he had no other chance. He knew just one thing - he had to get some pills. He didn't want to do it any longer.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry remembered the house Jay's car pulled up in front of as if it was his own. He had known it so well. For years this house had been like a second home to him. He had been welcome there like a son. The house was big enough for the Tomlinson's, four girls, a boy and their mum. Still, when you looked at it, it appeared small and homey, tidy and beautiful. Harry knew the backyard was big, but you could only guess it from how small the front yard was. The yard was just as tidy and beautiful like the rest of the house. It was so different from what Harry had been used to in the last years. It was so much better.

The thing was Harry, could like the house. He did like it, and nothing had changed since then. He still remembered how it felt, to be there every other day, to get food there and be treated like a family member. It was sick how vivid those feels still were. But he knew as well that he would never feel like this again. He would never be welcomed here like he belonged there. He was a stranger, a bad person and Louis hated him. So this wasn't home, this could never be home.

"Here we are. I thought I would give you the guest room. It's not big if you can recall, but you have your own space there and we can design it however you want to. Oh, and the twins should already be home, Fizz and Lottie will be coming soon. And Louis is only there in a few hours, you know that. Lunch will be ready then, I hope you can wait until then. Do you want something special?"

Jay spoke while they left the car. Harry took his bags out of the car and then followed her out of the house. As answer to the question he shook his head, only ever so slightly. Still, his curls bounced in his eyes, and that wasn't entirely surprising. He hadn't been at the hairdresser for a long time and his hairs were much too long. Not that he cared. He neither cared about his hairs nor did he care about food. He wasn't used to have much to eat. They had had no money, they'd had no nothing. For some long weeks he'd had nothing to eat but the stuff he'd gotten in the bakery.

"That's fine, I'll just make some Pizza.  Come on in, you can put your coat here and your shoes here, do you need some -"

"MOMMY IS HOMEEEE!"

Two little girls ran into the hall, throwing themselves onto their mother. They were around eight - or nine? - and they were exactly the same. These girls were small and skinny, with long blonde hairs and .. those eyes. Of course they had the Tomlinson eyes. How couldn't they? Harry knew that the five Tomlinson children were different like night and day, and the only thing they had in common were those fucking glistening honest blue eyes. It was strange.

The girls slung their arms around their mother's hips. Harry couldn't tell who of them was who. When they had been toddlers Jay had always put them different clothes on - because even then they couldn't have been separated. Harry was sure that if he only knew them better he could separate them, Daisy and Phoebe. But he wasn't exactly sure because, well, he wasn't sure how long he would be there and if it was long enough to mesmerize them well enough to acknowledge their differences.

"Who is this mummy?" one of the twins asked. They still looked at Harry in a mixture of curiosity and shyness. Harry didn't dare to move. He didn't know why, but he was paralyzed from their gazes. It was probably about their eyes - when Louis looked at him Harry was paralyzed with fear as well.

Jay smiled motherly, her arms slung around their daughters' shoulders. It was so obvious that she was a good mum. Harry could remember that he and Gemma had been like this with Anne as well. They had been like this when times had been good, all those years ago. It was sick how much time had passed since then and how vividly he still remembered it. He remembered how homey and tidy his mum smelled, how soothing her arms were. He remembered how Gemma had always looked up at their mum and smiled and sometimes Harry had looked at his bigger sister and had to smile too, simply because he loved her. He had looked up to her.

God, how he missed his sister.

"This is Harry. He lives with us now because his mummy died. He was a friend of Louis when you were younger, that's why he's here now."

They still looked at Harry with that intense yet so fucking innocent stare. Harry knew that they were picturing right now how it would feel to lose their mother. They didn't know anything, not at all. They didn't know how it felt when your own mum became a stranger a long time ago. They didn't know how it felt to be living with that stranger and still be craving for that love you used to get even though you know exactly that it's lost and you would never get it back. They didn't know, and Harry would do everything to prevent them from ever feeling like this.

He just wanted to escape that stare. He wanted to escape everything. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to lock himself in his room and do the only thing he was good at - destroying his skin. He had just cut half an hour ago, still the urge was there just as bad as before. He was literally craving for those heart-breaking sobs escaping his mouths, his body rocking back and forth while he lost against his demons and insecurities once more. And all of that, the blood and the tears and the loss, he wanted to hide in the darkness. That was all he needed - a blade and darkness. Why couldn't they just let him be?

Harry didn't really realize what happened next. Suddenly, one of the girls, not the one who had spoken first, let go of her mother and came over to him. He just stared at her, and he didn't realize what she was about to do until it was too late. She took his unmoving as a permission and slung her skinny arms around his hips, hugging him, her head resting on his stomach. Instantly, Harry froze. His head started spinning and his heartbeat started racing with fear. He couldn't breathe. He was about to have a panic attack just from that girl trying to comfort him.

It wasn't her fault though. It was just that he wasn't used to being hugged anymore. People didn't touch him to comfort him. They didn't want to touch or hold him. They shoved him away and around, they hurt him. He was scared of being touched because by now it only meant being hurt. That was why he was freaking out right now. He couldn't move, though, he couldn't escape her arms or her touch or her attention. He couldn't shove her away. He just stood there and chanted _don't don't don't don't_ in his head.

Somehow, Jay picked up on his freak-out. She looked at him and somehow she seemed worried. As if. She wouldn't be worried about him. She was just worried whether he would do anything to her daughter. "Phoebe" she said, her voice soft. "Let go of him. He needs time, honey."

Phoebe did how her mum told her instantly, stepping back, and looking at him apologetically. Hell, why were they always looking at him? They should stop. He was still short to breaking down. He concentrated on his breathing now. Tried to calm it down. He couldn't freak out now. They would be shocked and send him somewhere. Not that he cared. He was just - yeah, he was scared of foreign places. He liked being somewhere familiar.

"Sorry Harry" Phoebe said. Then she giggled and jumped over to her twin. "Did you hear that, Daisy? It rhymed!"

Daisy laughed with her sister. "But you will never be as good as Lou!"

Only the sound of Louis' name made him flinch. Stupid Harry.

Jay ruffled the girls' hairs. "Why don't you go to your room and already start your homework? I will be there for you in a minute" she said. Harry actually liked watching the woman he used to know so well interacting with her children. She was a really good mother, you could literally see how much she loved her children. Harry remembered those days where his mum looked at him with exactly the same expression of never-ending love in her eyes. They were long gone, and he remembered the times where she didn't even remember his name pretty much better than the others.

"Sorry for that Harry. They are a bit …" Jay trailed off, mostly because she couldn't say anything bad about her daughters in general. Harry understood, and he nodded. It was OK. They were just children, and Phoebe just tried to be a good person. It wasn't their fault that he freaked out about that. They didn't know anything. How could they? Nobody knew, simply because nobody cared. They didn't stop to watch, to observe him. Nobody ever stopped to ask what was up with him, why he was acting like this. But he didn't blame anybody. It wasn't their fault that he was boring and not what worth any attention.

Jay smiled kindly at Harry, but he could tell that she was irritated by him not speaking at all. For sure she just thought that he was strange. Everybody did. And they were right. "Alright, so I'll show you your room now." She told him, but it sounded nice, not like - he didn't know, a demand or something. He only nodded as a response though, picking up his bags again and following the woman upstairs. On that floor were four rooms. He knew from those old days that there was a bathroom, the two rooms from the middle-aged daughters of her, Fizz and Lottie, and the guest room.

That was the room he would live in now. Jay opened the door for him and he stood in the doorframe for a while, taking in the picture. The walls were light yellow, fitting to the honey-coloured wooden floor. On the other side of the door was a huge window, one of these were you can sit comfortably on the huge windowsill. There were a few pillows in front of it and some covers as well, inviting Harry to sit there and watch the raindrops float down the cold glass.

On the left side of the window, headboard touching the wall with the window, stood the bed. It was a single bed, with a black metal frame out of old bar constructions. It was a beautiful bed, Harry liked traditional furniture like that. What shocked him was the bedding covering the pillows on the mattress that looked so puffy and soft and just oh so perfect to dive into. It was white, with little footballs touching grass painted on it.

He knew that bedding, he knew it oh so well. It had been Louis' favourite when they have been friends, while they were in primary school. Whenever Louis had slept somewhere, he had taken this bedding with him, and when he was at home he always had that one on his covers as well. Harry remembered so many things where this bedding was involved - sleepovers, birthday parties, pillow fights, fooling around, childish games like building caves with pillows and covers. He remembered those chocolate stains that Jay couldn't get out, or the little _H+L=4eva_ that they wrote with pencils in the last little corner of the pillow cloth. Yes, Louis had loved that bedding. And Harry was sure that it would still smell like him, reminding him of what he was missing. Reminding him of the boy he used to know who he had lost a long time ago.

Harry forced himself to tear his eyes away from that bed that managed to hurt him just with the memories it contained. Jay couldn't mention anything. She just couldn't. So he looked further, let his eyes wander over that huge bookshelf that stood beside the bed. It was filled with books and other little stuff that people put in their shelves to let them look homey and familiar. There was space for his own stuff. Not that he had many things to put there. But it warmed his frozen heart that they made some space for him.

On the other wall stood a huge desk where was enough space for all his personal stuff and even more. His laptop would look ridiculous up there. It was nice though, knowing that he had a space to properly do his homework again. His desk at home hadn't even been big enough to put all his school items up there. And now he had that much space. He was surprised, but not quite comfortable with it. The same was with the big cupboard with those three doors and that mirror in the middle and all this. It was just so huge. He wouldn't be able to fill it. One door probably. Not more. It was ridiculous and absurd.

All those items filling the room fitted together perfectly - something warm, traditional yet modern was created. It fitted so perfectly, the forms and the material and the colours and just everything. It looked perfectly planned, just like the pictures on the wall and the fairy lights snaking around them. It was such a beautiful room, even that phrase that someone painted over the desk was fitting in. _Smile, it can save lives._ Harry decided that it fitted to the room but not to him. It was too true, too much hurting him. And it was too ironic because Harry hadn't smiled for a long, long while.

Harry didn't fit in here, he didn't belong to the plan someone had made about that room. It was too nice for him, too homey, too big, too good. He wasn't saying that he didn't like it. He loved it. It was a little bit girly, yeah, with the chains of light and the yellow and the mirror and the bed and the pillows on the window sill. But it was a beautiful room and it was just oh so perfect. It could feel like home.

And exactly that was the problem. Feeling home was dangerous for Harry. People didn't want him, and if he would feel at home somewhere, they would take it away from him and it would hurt him. So it shouldn't feel like home here, he better didn't get used to that comfort the room was giving him. He shouldn't feel like home here. This was Louis' home. He was just a stranger, an intruder. He was unwanted here.

Jay mentioned that he struggled, obviously. Apparently, she already knew him better than he thought. "This is your room now. We can take the lights down if you want, or put some new colours on the walls." She said to him, and she smiled. Still, she seemed to expect an answer. Well, she didn't know him at al. He wouldn't answer. Harry just looked at his mother's old friend and then slowly shook his head, his way of saying that the room was just fine. That was just how he was. Harry took everything how it came, and he was probably doubting, but never complaining. Harry accepted everything wordless, that was just how he was.

Jay gave her best to hold her smile upright, and she succeeded most of the way. "OK. I'll let you make yourself at home then. Feel free to do everything you want, this is your home now. You know where the kitchen is, and if you have a question, just ask me. I'll be downstairs, preparing lunch. I'll call you when it's ready, yeah? Oh, and the door is like the only door with a key except the bathroom. I want to make sure you have some personal space." She explained, but now she only looked at him for a few seconds, her eyes telling the boy what she couldn't express with words, before shutting the door behind her.

Jay had learned the first lesson about Harry - he didn't speak. And she better got used to that, Harry thought. He set his bags down and locked the door. The moment he knew he was safe, he let go. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor right in front of the window. When he curled up into a ball, the tears didn't want to stop streaming down his face. He was completely broken and shattered now. And nobody could ever help him to become whole again.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry needed about half an hour to half-decently calm down again. He stopped crying eventually, and some time later he was ready to collect his limbs up and fit himself on the window sill. It had just hit him hard in that moment. There were too many feelings and thoughts in his head. All those memories he had successfully fought back during the last years were coming back. And this was only because he was back there. Back where so many of the good memories took place. Everything just remembered him of the time where he still had a friend and a life and a family and all the good things. And these memories were destroying him now.

Then, when he was ready to control himself again, he started unpacking his stuff. It wasn't because he wanted to. It was because Jay wanted him to and he always did what others want him to. He just didn't want to be a bother. So he did what they wanted him to, stood everything, and then did the only thing he still wanted to - cutting. That was what kept him sane.

So now Harry unpacked. He started with his clothes. There weren't many, they didn't even fill the half of one door. It was actually looking pretty much ridiculous and made him look even smaller. He didn't fit into a world like the Tomlinsons were offering him. He didn't fit in a world that was healthy, complete and idyllic world. He was too small, too pathetic. He didn't fit into this life at all.

But there was no chance to get out of here. There was no escape. But god, how he wanted to get away from here. He didn't want to be an intruder anymore. He just wanted to stop existing. That was the only chance to get out of here. Jesus, how he wanted to die. He was such a coward. He could've done it. He wouldn't have seen this fucking bedding, he memories wouldn't have reached him. The darkness would've lulled him into a beautiful never-ending slumber and he would be safe and happy and reunited with his family again.

And then Harry took out his books. They fitted in the smallest space they had left for him in the shelf. There were only seven: The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, Romeo And Juliet, Huckleberry Finn, Oliver Twist, The Tales of Beedle the Bard and the first two Eragon books. The books have been read so many times that they were already falling to pieces, the covers ripping and being glued together again. He had read them over and over again, he could surely tell them exactly what stood on which page.

Then he put his sister's laptop on the desk, together with the school books he had with him. The school stuff was actually looking OK. They didn't show off that he had no money at all. They were neat and tidy, just in the way that his teachers didn't pick on about how he was living. That would've been the literal death of him. Well, it didn't matter now, but he wouldn't change anything about it nonetheless.

Harry was finished in less time than he had needed to stop crying. He stuffed the bags somewhere in the cupboard and was finished. For a second, he hesitated before he returned to the spot on the window ledge. He actually liked sitting there. It had something soothing, the comfortable pillows around him and the covers underneath him. He leant his forehead on the window, looking down on the garden of the Tomlinsons.

The grass was green against the grey of the sky and the red leaves of the apple trees were another harsh contrast and another boost of colour. And the rain only let the colours shine brighter. He always loved how it looked when it rained. The nature had something magical then, with their shining intensity.

Harry's fingers were trembling again where he clawed into the material of his sweater, his arms slung around himself. The urge was back with full force, even though he hadn't cut barely an hour ago. He wanted to rip open his skin and let all those things that were bothering him float away. He wanted to slice his skin to let his stuff out that made him not fit in. he wanted to let it all out, he wanted to numb the pain. He needed to do so. Harry let out a nervous breath, his hand fishing into his pocket and pulling out his best friends along with the tissues he always kept with him. There they were again. The teenage boy pulled up his sleeve once more today. This time he didn't cut on the underside of his arm but on the upside. Four cuts, not as deep but quite long, enough to make him bleed a nice amount. He didn't use bandages this time but only pressed tissues onto it until they stopped bleeding. Twenty minutes after he pulled down his sleeve carefully, sucking in a sharp breath as a sting of pain shot up his arm.

And of course his timing was perfect. He had the bloody tissues just hidden in an old plastic bag he always carried around in his school bag when it knocked on the door. He jumped at the sound and his eyes fixed on the door wide opened. Gladly he had locked it.

"Lottie and Louis are home and lunch's ready"

It was neither Jay nor one of the twins. And neither Lottie nor Louis. So there could be only one person who could be this. He was a little bit better than before, not only from the cutting. He walked over to the door to unlock it, his arm resting in the pocket of his sweater, in front of his stomach that didn't look better than his arm at all. If he would take of his clothes, his whole body would look like a battlefield. When he opened the door, he was met with the girl he expected - a lean, slender body in tight, boyish clothes, with long dark brown hairs tied in a ponytail and the usual Tomlinson eyes and face.

"Hey Harry" Fizz smiled her lazy smile at him, his eyes sparkling. She actually looked glad to see Harry, and it made him feel a little better. "I would hug you but mum warned me that you don't like being touched. So welcome, curly head. I like it that you're staying with us." She said easily, like they haven't had no contact for almost four years.

And Harry tried a little smile for her, only a little pull on the corners of his lips, more like a grimace, but it was more than he'd tried to give someone in a long while. And he wouldn't do this for anyone else. But he and Fizz had always gotten along quite well. She was a little bit like his own sister. She was chilled and calm, not as hyper as the rest of the clan.

"Mum told me you don't speak" Fizz spoke on when they made their way downstairs slowly. It was the first time that Harry didn't feel uncomfortable speaking to someone. "You can always come to me though. I know Louis bullies you. He's grown a prick since he stopped being friends with you."

Oh, how right she was. The Louis Harry used to know wasn't there anymore, the Louis that bullied him and his best friend were basically two different people. It was sad, actually. His best friend had been a brilliant person, funny, smart and carefree just in the right way. He was perfect to have fun with, but perfect to speak about serious stuff too. He had been bright and honest, a wonderful friend. He seemed to have lost all these character treats. He was a bitch now, basically, sassier than ever before, lazy, a real dumbass. He liked to act like he cared about nothing at all, and god how arrogant he was.

Harry shouldn't be sad about the fact that Louis changed that much. He shouldn't wish for Louis to come back. But he did. Deep down, where he still had feelings, he still felt for Louis. Their friendship, the trust, the bond between them wasn't forgotten, a part of it was still there. And Harry knew that when Louis showed him that he was still himself, the old Louis, they would live again, come to the surface again. Harry would so easily fall back into their friendship that it scared the shit out of him.

Harry followed Fizz downstairs and into the kitchen. His heart was beating harshly, too fast and too hard, in his chest and he clutched the material of his sweater where nobody saw. There he was. Louis. The boy sat with the back to the door so he didn't see Harry straight away. But then Jay brought a bowl of salad to the table and she smiled fondly at him when she saw him. And he knew he was screwed. He just knew it.

"Don't be hesitant, Harry, you can sit wherever you want."

Louis froze in his chatter with Lottie who sat in front of him, a small slender girl with blonde hair and a beautiful face. Harry gulped when he watched the older boy's frame tense. He was in deep shit here. He had known it was a bad idea. He'd known it from the moment Jay stopped in front of him. He shouldn't have come here. He shouldn't have gone with her. Louis would rip his heart out, literally.

Louis turned around slowly now, and his eyes were so cold, so full of hate. Harry had seen into similar eyes a lot today. But the others have been warm, like the sea. Louis' were more like eyes. "What is he doing here?" he asked with a voice that could slice stone, staring Harry down until the curly haired lowered his gaze to the tiled floor.

"He lives with us now, his mum died this morning." Jay said. Her voice contained a warning to her son. He should behave himself. But Harry knew as well as all the other girls in the room that that wouldn't help. Louis didn't care about what his mum said right now.

"Oh, did she drown into alcohol, yeah? Poor little boy. Are you going to cry like a baby now? Can't even look after yourself, can you? Too pathetic to live on your own."

It hurt. God how it hurt. Not the words about him. He was right. Harry had cried, he had cried a lot; salty tears as well as bloody tears. And Harry was pathetic, and he couldn't live on his own. Louis was right with everything he said about Harry. But the comment about his mum. Yes, he was right with that too. She died because of an overdose of alcohol. But he didn't need to point that out. And nobody hit on Harry's family.

Still, he didn't say anything. Harry just stood there, shoulders scrunched up and his head ducked low, his dull green eyes lowered to the floor. Louis wouldn't stop until someone stopped him, Harry knew that. But he couldn't fight him, not when he didn't say anything wrong. And he had no strength left to do so. He was exhausted from keeping his face straight, he could only concentrate on not breaking down. So he kept it wordless, kept his mouth shut only once again.

"Shut up Louis" Fizz said. "Harry must feel like shit, so don't you dare hitting on him even more." Did that girl really just protect him? Nobody had ever done this before. He had never someone who spoke up for him, never ever. Nobody cared enough about him. Yet, here Fizz stood, glaring at his older brother and telling him to stop when nobody else usually did. Harry glanced up at her and met her gaze through the corners of her eyes. Her eyes were soothing before she concentrated on Louis again.

"I'm not gonna stay in a house with that fucking fag!" Louis exclaimed angrily.

"He said a bad word mummy!" one of the twins shrieked then, shaking the other three watchers out of their obvious trance.

"No curses in my house, Louis. Harry needs our help and we're gonna help him as good as we can. Do you hear me?" Jay said, trying to remain calm. Her voice still sounded sharply, she was scolding Louis. Another one who was on Harry's side. It was sick how suddenly Harry found people that seemingly cared. But he knew that Jay would in the end be on her son's side. After all, Louis was her son, her own blood, and blood was thicker than water.

"I don't wanna live with him! Can't they just put him where he belongs??" Louis shouted, jumping to his feet that hard that his chair fell to the floor. "I'm off!" And all the persons stared after him while he rushed out of the room, shoving Harry harshly out of the way just like he always did in the hallways, muttering something that sounded like a mixture of curses and names. Harry was screwed, to say the least.

"Why is Lou so angry, mummy?" A twin asked. Harry didn't know which one it was.

Jay sighed, shrugging. He looked a little bit sad and a little bit helpless. "If I just knew"

Fizz shrugged nonchalantly, like nothing had happened at all. "He needs to get his sh- uh, stuff together" she said, picking up Louis' chair before sitting down on the seat beside it. How could she stay that calm? In that moment Harry admired her for her calmness.

"I doubt he will" Lottie spoke up now, for the first time. She was sixteen just like Harry, and she was going into his class. She was alright, one of the popular kids with many friends, and everybody wanted to be seen with her girl clique. She never did anything bad to Harry, so nevermind.

Somewhere in the house a door was slammed shut, and Harry flinched visibly.

"Sit down, Harry" Lottie said, but her voice sounded distant, like whenever she spoke to that nerdy girl in class that made some of her homework. "He won't come back and kill you."

No, Louis probably wouldn't kill him, Harry thought while he hesitantly sat down between Fizz and the one twin. But he would scream to him until he was deaf and then punch him up until he was jelly. He was honestly scared. He'd known that Louis would be angry that Harry was there now. But he would've never thought that he would freak out like this. But what could he do? He couldn't change it. So he just sat down and tried to be inconspicuous with barely eating anything. He had no other chance but just doing what he was told, wordless.


	8. Chapter 8

_Harry could still remember that one day that would forever be his happiest memory. He remembered everything, every little detail like he was just living it again right now or it only had been yesterday._

_Louis and him were at the pool of Harry's old house, laying only in their trunks in the sun, enjoying the first summer weekend before Louis would start middle school. They laid on their backs in the sun, eyes closed, skins tanned. They were the same size back then, both skinny and lanky, a little bit looking like brothers._

_"Hazza?" Louis said, his voice barely loud enough to be heard, and Harry's sly smile grew a little wider._

_"Yeah Lou?" he answered, not even bothering to open his eyes._

_Louis hesitated a second before asking what he wanted to. "Are we gonna be forever?"_

_Harry on the other hand didn't hesitate. Not even a millisecond. "Of course"_

_"How can you be sure?" Louis wondered._

_Harry smirked. "I just know it. You'll always be my best friend."_

_"It's hard not to believe it when you say it like this." Louis said._

_"I mean it." Harry shrugged._

_"Me too. Partners in crime forever, huh?" Harry could hear Louis smile._

_"Yeah, forever" Harry agreed._

_"Pinky Promise?"_

_And they locked their pinkies, eyes still closed. Both didn't know that soon everything would change, that forever wouldn't last much longer. It had been twelve days and then the message of Harry's dad's death came and destroyed everything. And only a month later Louis had left, and forever was over._

Harry traced the smeared and barely visible letters on the bedding with his fingertips. Tears were brimming behind his eyes. These came from the night afterwards, when Harry had slept at Louis' later. They had written this together, either of them writing their initial and Louis did the 'eva' while Harry did the '+', the '=' and the '4'. You could barely tell the difference. They were just so much the same.

You couldn't imagine how much it hurt to look at that. It's almost as good as cutting. Harry looked at those letters a lot, remembering. Crying. God, he'd cried so much the last days. Not exactly because of his mum. But because of himself. He cried because he was weak and pathetic, an intruder and a bother. They probably didn't act like this in the past two days, the two days he'd been at the Tomlinson household, but he could tell by their eyes, their glimpses and glances. He didn't want to be. But he had no other chance, had he? He'd thrown his chance away, the foolish coward he was.

Still, the Tomlinsons mostly gave their best to make Harry feel welcome in their family. Jay gave her best to make him fit in, she looked after him better than his mum had in the past years. She was nice, too nice, it felt like it was almost sarcastic to Harry. Fizz was just Fizz, bright and smart and wonderful, and she was actually the only one that Harry felt like was completely comfortable with him being around. The twins were cute, really, they were so hyper and inseparable but they remembered him too much of Louis and him in that age, and they were kind of scared of what happened on Harry's first day here so they mostly held it down. Lottie seemed to be on Louis' side here, even though she restrained herself. She acted kind around him, too kind, kind of cold, and she was distant, so distant. But at least she didn't try to insult him at every occasion possible.

And this was exactly what Louis was doing. He ignored Harry whenever they were home because of his mother and the girls, but school was a completely different story. There he let out all his anger, all his hate. It was violent. Harry got shoved into lockers, he got knocked over or hit in the guts 'on accident', and there were a lot of names called. It got worse in, like, every minute or something, and Louis didn't seem to have enough.

Not that Harry blamed him. He could understand. He was a bother and he was useless and he was just stepping too far into Louis' personal space and it just sucked to live with Harry, so why shouldn't Louis be angry. Yeah, Harry totally understood him. And of course, he didn't fight it back.

And now it was Saturday. It was weekend. The school time was over. And Louis had no chance to let all the aggression out. Louis had to behave well in front of his family. He shot him glares though, every once in a while, and they already made him fear Monday. This would definitely not end well.

Harry was ripped out of his thoughts with a faint knock on the door. "Can I come in?" It was Fizz, obviously. Harry didn't exactly answer with words, he just stood up to open the door. He hadn't said a word since the nurse asked him for his name and where he wanted to go.

Fizz was smiling lightly at him, and she seemed nervous when she stepped in and he shut the door behind her. "Listen, I know you don't speak and stuff, but I do, and I need to get some things out. Thoughts I have. Things that may change some stuff."

Harry watched the younger girl cautiously, his alarm bells ringing. What was she talking about? Why was she talking like this? What did that mean? It made the boy nervous. But probably she would just ditch him, let him fall down like a hot potato, just like everyone had done before her. He wouldn't blame her. He couldn't. He was already surprised that she made it that long.

They sat down, Harry on the window ledge, which was kind of his favourite spot in the whole house, and Fizz on the bed. She was nervous, her hands stuffed underneath their thighs but their knees wobbling up and down, the typical nervous movement. And Harry just sat there, hands in his lap, no strength to straighten his spine. They were both not exactly looking at each other but more like everywhere else.

"See, I remember how close you and Lou were. But I still have no fucking clue why he let you down like this. You were his everything, you know? He loved you just so much that it wasn't even really possible anymore. And then he changed so hard. His behaviour towards you made me think of something I've overheard a few years ago, before he started treating you like shit. It was with that boy, Stan. Louis wanted to play football so bad. Do you know what Stan did when Louis asked him whether he could join the team? He told him there were no faggots on the team and Lou had to prove that he wasn't one first. He made him dump you. I don't think he realized what he was doing until it was too late. He probably still hasn't really realized what he'd done there. And by now he's just so used to being an asshole and hiding his feelings that it seems natural. Because I think he still loves you, but he can't show it, he's too scared of how people would react."

Harry had to wrap his mind around it. Louis and loving him? No way, not anymore. Fizz had never seen those eyes, so cold, so full of hate. Louis wasn't gay at all. He had a girlfriend, for god's sake. And she was beautiful with wavy hair and long legs and the perfect body and image. He wasn't gay. He didn't still feel the same he did all those years ago. And he decided to let Harry down, he wasn't forced into this. Louis wouldn't have done this.

Still, Harry couldn't help but feeling that tiny spark of hope, that tiny light that Fizz sparked in his chest with her words. Did she even know what she was doing there? It could hurt so much if she was wrong. But what if she was right? What if there was a part of Louis that wasn't a complete dumbass and evil like shit? What if Harry and Louis could become HarryandLouis again? What if?

Because Harry knew, Harry just knew that he would take him back. If the boy that used to be his best friend came back and he could see his Boo Bear in Louis' eyes, he would stumble back into him without a second thought. Because the Louis that was calling him names and bullying him wasn't his best friend, these were like two different persons, two completely different souls or something. And Harry needed the boy who was his best friend. And when that Louis came back, Harry would be lost.

He knew that it was dangerous. God, how he knew. Louis didn't deserve that trust, and if he used it in the wrong ways, Harry would shatter into pieces that were that tiny that they wouldn't be able to make him work again. Harry should be careful with his trust and whom he'd let in. But Louis never left his insides, and he didn't want him to leave. Because if the good Louis left, the good memories would leave with him. And these were everything that kept him alive.

"Harry?" Fizz whispered, and when Harry snapped out of his thoughts, the younger girl really looked concerned. It was strange what she was giving him. She treated him like a friend, and she was so fucking nice to him, even though he didn't really let her in, she smiled her way inside. She made him believe that he could belong somewhere, and she was the nicest person he'd met in a long time.

"I went too far, didn't I? I shouldn't have said that, I'm so so sorry" The brown haired girl rambled on, sounding almost anxious and definitely concerned. She was the only one who was really concerned about hurting him. And somehow it was really comforting.

Harry shook his head to answer her. It was alright, his eyes said while he wasn't capable to form the words. He'd cope with it. In fact, he was almost thankful for what she had said. Because everybody needed hope, didn't they? Even some worthless shit like him needed whatever she sparked inside him. He just knew it, although he wasn't exactly happy that it was Louis who gave him that spark. But Fizz did the right thing.

For a couple of seconds they just sat there and looked at each other, and for the first time Harry really let someone look into his eyes. Fizz' were sincere, and he knew that his just were empty and maybe sad when she looked exactly into those dull green orbs. But Harry stared right back. He tried to figure out why Fizz was so nice to him. Fizz of all people. She was too nice, nothing he deserved at all. It was strange. Like, really strange. But he couldn't say that he wasn't relieved to have her there.

"You look like you could really need a hug" Fizz pointed out, and her voice was barely louder than a whisper when she said that. Probably she was afraid of how Harry would react.

And he was surprised, to say the least. How could she tell? That was, in fact, one of the things Harry had always been craving for. A strong pair of arms he could crawl into, a chest he could bury his face inside to hide from everything. That's just what he needed but what no one offered to him, just because he wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth that kind of attention. But he couldn't deny it, so he nodded his head, only slightly.

He would never ask for a hug, yet Fizz seemed to know that. She just stood up and offered him her small hand with the long bony fingers, a slight, almost fond smile playing on her lips. He stared in her face first, then he let his gaze fall to the outstretched hand. He was nervous. What if she didn't mean it like this, what if she only wanted to fool him? And then there was this little part of him that knew he would do it wrong. He always did everything wrong, and although there wasn't much to fuck up with a simple hug, Harry felt like he could even fuck this up.

Still, he stood up and lightly, only ever so lightly, placed his fingers inside hers. Fizz just tugged at his hand and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him. She was so much shorter than him, so much smaller, but Harry just folded his lanky body around hers. She held him tight and while he was clinging onto her, he'd never felt closer to "OK" in a long while. There was nothing romantic about it, it was just holding each other with Fizz silently saying "It's OK, I'm there, you're not alone".

And it was so easy to believe - too easy. A part of Harry knew that he shouldn't be so naïve, but the bigger part of him was just craving for something like that. She made him feel warm inside, something he hadn't felt in some time. It was like he gained a sister in that moment. And it was nice and it was OK because he already trusted her.

Eventually Harry let go of her, but his movements weren't rushed. He didn't shove her away or shriek away himself, he didn't run away from her and her touch. This girl, this young girl, was the only friend he had. He realized just then that Fizz would be there for him, she really would be, and that thought was scary but soothing in the same moment. And so he looked at her, giving her a wordless Thank you because, well, Harry didn't speak.

But Fizz understood. "You're welcome" she said lowly, that light smile still tugging on her lips while she looked at him softly.

And Harry smiled the tiniest of smiles back, sad but honest, and he gave it because he wanted to, not because he needed to. It felt unfamiliar, foreign even, but not entirely bad. It was getting better a little. He already knew he would cut less tonight. Not much, but probably two or three cuts. Or he would do them less deep so that they would hurt less tomorrow. Another soothing thought.

Then the comfortable silence between the two was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

Fizz' eyes widened and she stared at the door in shock. "Shit" she hissed. "Zayn, Stan and Liam are there."


	9. Chapter 9

Harry froze to the spot, all the blood rushing out of his face, the colour leaving his cheeks completely. This wasn't good. Not at all. Stan, Liam and Zayn meant anger. Whenever they were there, it wouldn't end well. School was the best example. He couldn't stand it here, where he was just getting used to feeling slightly comfortable in this house.

Fizz' fingers ghosted over Harry's shoulder. She was still careful with touching him. And she better was because when it got worse he wouldn't let her do this anymore. "It's gonna be fine, calm down. If you just stay here they won't know." she said. "The twins are at dad's and it's calm. Mum will let them play video games in the living room and we can stay here and they won't mention."

Harry nodded, but he wasn't exactly in this room with his thoughts. He had to restrain his fingers from shaking. Alone the image of being in one house with these guys - with his bullies, for god's sake - that wasn't the high school had him like this, shaky and nervous. It was pathetic. He sat down again, concentrating on his breathing, this time curling his legs underneath him.

"Shall I stay here a little bit more?" Fizz wondered.

Harry shrugged and then nodded. Being alone wouldn't be the best idea right now. Or like, it wasn't a good idea at all. He didn't want to be alone, even if that was surprising after all this time. The silence of this room was deafening sometimes. It made him think too much.

So the two of them spent the whole afternoon together. They didn't talk much, but sometimes even the presence of another person was enough to soothe the racing pace of thoughts. Fizz got her school stuff and really got some work done before picking up her book and reading, sitting leaning against the wall to Harry's feet. Meanwhile, Harry sat on his usual spot at the side of the window, staring out and thinking. Eventually he started drawing, just doodling in his notebook, filling page after page with messy scrapes of his pencil.

Fizz didn't mention it; she was so into her book, a slight smile tugging on her lips. A slight smile laid on her features and sun was slightly stroking her skin, letting it shine. She was so beautiful like this that he just had to draw her. He watched her for a while, mesmerizing her look, the light in her hair and the way her fingers were grazing the soft paper pages. He filled the page just with her, but when he looked at the finished picture, this wasn't entirely Fizz. This was more. This was his sister.

Now he knew why he liked Fizz so much.

Fizz was nice and pretty and gentle and she was all the good things he knew a person should have. He was glad he had her; she was the first person he could think of letting her close. She was different, and he had fewer problems with trusting with her. And now that he was staring at that picture he drew he knew why. She was like Gemma. Alone thinking that name hurt. Fizz was a lot like his sister, and it made his heart clench yet warm. It was a good feeling, a really good thought. Like the loneliness was less dangerous now.

"Guys, it's dinner time!"

The shout startled both of them, urging a soft sound of surprise out of Fizz when her head jolted upwards. Jay wasn't in the door like they thought she was - the shout came from downstairs.

"Coming!" Fizz shouted back, putting the book on the floor with the open pages turned down so that she didn't lose the page she was reading on right now before standing up. She turned to look at Harry instead of leaving instantly.

"Are you joining? Or should I excuse you? I would totally understand if you wouldn't want to .."

Harry shook his head, putting the notebook aside as well. He had already skipped lunch today, and he didn't want to make anyone suspicious. He didn't want them to worry, he wasn't worth it. So he followed this girl that was slowly becoming his friend downstairs. A faint spark of the hope he'd felt earlier still remained, and apparently it was making him brave - he wouldn't be able to face the clique of the only Tomlinson son if it wasn't for this little spark. They would be there, and still he dared going downstairs. As long as he had Fizz, he wasn't completely alone, and he knew that they would behave around Jay.

He hoped so, at least.

Fizz smiled her reassuring smile at him before entering the kitchen. She looked at him over her shoulder when he hesitated for a second. His heart was beating too fast and for a short moment he was like what the fuck was he even doing here, but he just breathed in deep and gave his best to just act like nothing was wrong with him being here. Even though it was. It was, more or less, suicide. Not literally. But it was a stupid idea.

Just that he couldn’t back out of it anymore.

“Look at who’s there!” Zayn exclaimed – he was the first one to mention Harry in the hallway, and of course everybody turned their heads to look at him. Zayn hadn’t sounded happy. He sounded more like a sarcastic bitch who wanted to rip his throat out. And from what Harry knew, he was pretty sure that the pretty black-haired was exactly that.

The room was silent, too silent, and all the eyes were fixed on Harry. Oh shit, fucking shit. Why was he doing this again? He regretted going downstairs already. He just wanted to disappear. As if these idiots were capable of behaving. It would be a disaster. It would be a disaster and he’d end up miserably crying in the room upstairs again while these boys laughed about him loudly. There was no one here to look after him. Of course not.

But then he met Fizz’ gaze, and something settled in him, even though Stan’s words weren’t nice. He took the breath he was holding out and sat down between Fizz and the empty space for Jay.

“What does the faggot do here?” Stan asked. His voice was a low growl so that Louis’ mother wouldn’t hear him. He knew Jay by now and he was smart enough to avoid making her angry. Harry just wondered how Stan could tell that calling Harry names would make Jay angry. That wasn’t even the truth. She didn’t care about the curly head more than necessary. Why should she? He wasn’t a part of this family. He was just a visitor. An intruder.

“I told you that the dumbass lives here now” Louis spat. He literally spat, or snapped, or a mixture of both. He seemed so angry about that that it almost hurt Harry. It did hurt him, to be honest, just that he was used to that constant pain. And he should be used to it by now. Louis was hating him for years, why should he stop now? That idea was just pathetic. Still, these words had him swallowing hard and his hands, hidden under the table, balled to fists so his nails dug in the flesh of his palm. He did that a lot lately. As well as staring on his own lap, face hidden from his long unruly dark brown hair.

The hope was gone completely, Harry was left dark and alone again, and it hurt. He wasn’t saying he didn’t deserve it – no, he really did, he deserved the loneliness and the pain –, but after finding out that there could be something different if he wanted it seemed to get harder. Of course. He shouldn’t have let that happen to him in the first place.

“Just ignore him” Louis hushed. “If we say anything, mum’s gonna kill us altogether.” He sounded serious about that, and the boys believed him. Of course they did. He was the leader of them, even though Stan had been when they first became a group. Louis was the born leader, that’s what it was.

So Liam only let out a snort, but then this topic was closed and they didn’t even sneak a glare at Harry as soon as Jay walked in with a hot pot of lasagne. The boys were talking, fooling around, joking and all this stuff while eating. They talked about football practise and school, the usual stuff, and Harry was kind of jealous of them. He would like to be like this too, relaxed and happy, joking around and laughing with his friends. If he had friends. But he didn’t have some. He didn’t deserve them for obvious reasons.

So he just watched them carefully while only eating as little as possible – his hunger had left the moment he realized how dumb that idea had been. He followed the talking without actually being a part of it, and at the end when the boys excused themselves to continue playing video games, Harry volunteered to help Jay with the dishes.

He worked wordless beside her and the simple work of drying the plates and the silver off calmed him down. It had been hard, just sitting there and watching these boys, not as his bullies, but as just simple boys. He’s never seen them like this, never watched them in their natural habitat. The funny thing was that he mentioned things, like wallflowers should do. He watched how Zayn smiled at Liam a little too long and how Liam’s gaze always lingered on Zayn. They were good at hiding it, and Stan didn’t seem to mention a thing, but it was just so obvious to a watcher that there was more. It was ironic how oblivious Stan could be to stuff right in front of his stupid nose but he mentioned things that weren’t there around stuff that wasn’t his business.

Well, never mind. It was none of his business. He should stay out of it. It would only bring him further damage if he thought about it. Sigh.

Harry went upstairs after that. Fizz had gotten her stuff out of his room while he was helping in the kitchen, so the room was empty now, and kind of too silent. They had sat in silence before too, but this time there was no other person there to fill the emptiness. It was kind of sad. It had calmed him down to have Fizz there. But now he was alone, and it was sad because in the end, he would always end up alone.

The exhaustion crashed in now. He hadn’t slept a lot since his mum had died, and now he felt more than ready for a good night’s sleep. So, Harry just changed into his pyjamas and crawled into the bed that still seemed far too comfortable to him. He was soundly asleep at 9pm, and somehow he was really glad about that.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry didn’t know what he dreamt, but when he woke up a few hours later, he was breathing hard and his mouth was dry like stone. It was only about eleven thirty, and he was thirsty. Holy hell, it was shit. Why couldn’t he remember what he had dreamed? Usually, his nightmares were vivid and eating him alive, but this one was faded away before Harry even had time to realize what was going on.

He was thirsty like fuck, and he didn’t expect anyone to be up anymore, so he went downstairs to grab something to drink. Just a bottle of water and he would sleep again, probably without a nightmare. Or he wouldn’t sleep at all because he couldn’t anymore. He slipped on an old pair of socks and waddled down the hallway and the stairs. He barely made a sound, he was used to going as silent as possible so that his mum wouldn’t wake up when she was passed out again.

But halfway downstairs, Harry heard the voices.

“- heard you today, Louis” It was Jay, her voice soft, yet stern. Harry froze, his fingers gripping the banister too tight. Whoa, he shouldn’t hear this.

“What do you mean?” Louis asked. He could tell they were in the kitchen. He should just go back upstairs and probably drink something out of the faucet. But he was frozen, couldn’t move at all.

“The way you talk about Harry” Jay said, and she didn’t sound too pleased. Well, now Harry really couldn’t move. This was about him. Probably they could give him some of the answers he needed so badly.

“There was nothing?” Louis said, and he already sounded pissed. His tone was harsh, but it wasn’t as hard as it was when he talked to Harry. “We don’t do anything.”

“I’m just wondering why you’re so angry with him.” Jay sighed. Harry should go upstairs. He should. But he didn’t. Still. He already felt the guilt creeping up his spine, but it didn’t change anything. “He was your best –“

“Yeah, mum, that’s it” Louis interrupted his mum. “He _was_.”

Jay sighed again, and it sounded like she sunk against the counter now. “Louis” she muttered, and she sounded exhausted. “You don’t get what I want to say. Haven’t you understood what happened to him?” she asked. “He has no family left, he’s lonely and doesn’t speak. He needs a friend.”

“Fizz seemed to take care of him” Louis grumbled.

“If you had the chance, wouldn’t you rather be friends with a boy than a girl? He would want a boy too. He needs a boy. He needs you.” Wow, that was some speech. How did Jay already know him so well? He was only there two days. Only. Two. Days. That was weird, really.

Louis huffed, and Harry’s chest tightened, because he knew that huff, he’d heard it way too often. “Yeah, course.”

“He still looks at you the same.” The woman told her son now, and wow, that was another thing. He didn’t know he had a certain look for Louis. He thought he hadn’t. And he thought his mask fit and nobody ever saw what he was thinking. “Imagine if you would lose everything. Wouldn’t you want him to –“

“Ok mum” Louis interrupted his mother again. He sounded pissed. He snapped. Shit. “I won’t ignore him anymore. Fine.”

Jay sighed. She seemed to sigh a lot when she was around her son. “Please, be nice to him.”

There was a silence, and Harry was shaken out of his daze and ready to retreat; because honestly, if one of them found him here eavesdropping he would be dead. He would so be dead. And he didn’t plan on being caught. But when he did two steps back upstairs, Louis’ voice cut through the silence again.

He sounded different than Harry had heard him in a long time.

“I didn’t want that” His voice was small, broken. “Shoving him away.”

There were steps, and probably one of them was approaching the other. Harry’s heart was beating too loud, but he still didn’t leave the stairs.

“I never understood why you did it in the first place” Jay admitted softly.

Harry could hear the deep, heavy breath Louis sucked in even from his spot on the stairs. “I had to choose, either him or my dream.”

“And your dream is more important than your best friend?” Jay didn’t sound angry or annoyed, there was just a faint hint of disappointment, but mostly her voice was calm and steady. That was the perk of being a mother, always knowing how to say things. “That’s not the boy I’ve raised. Don’t lie to me Louis”

This was the moment where Harry should go. He shouldn’t know this. It was private, intimate. But he had always wondered why Louis had left him alone when he needed him most, and now he could get the answers. And he needed them. And so he stayed, nervous, with sweating hands and a racing heart.

“I –“ Louis started, stopped again. He sounded so tiny, broken. Surprisingly a lot like Harry. “I’ve never been exactly good at anything but football. I just wanted to play and be good and have the people liking me. But they called me – they called me names, called me a faggot. They bullied me. Never when Harry was around. And I didn’t want to be bullied. It was the only chance to escape Stan and become one of them.”

Jay’s voice was muffled now – she was probably hugging Louis, giving him the strength he needed. The strength Harry could’ve needed to, but Anne never gave to him. “And you call this boy your friend?” she wondered.

“Zayn and Liam are my friends” Louis gave back.

“Stan doesn’t bully them” Jay pointed out. Harry asked himself why he should. Was there something he hadn’t seen before?

“Stan doesn’t know” Louis answered. “Let them have their little piece of happiness.”

Jay sighed (once more). “Why don’t you let yourself be happy?”

“I am happy” Louis gave back. Harry could tell from his voice that it was a lie. It surprised him that he could still tell after all this time. How little Louis had changed in the end, even though he had seemed like a completely different person.

“You’re not” Jay said softly. She was probably petting his hair or something motherly. She was good at her role.

Louis heaved another sigh. “It’s easier to pretend I hate him than to –“

“You’re scared” Jay said, like she was surprised. “That’s ok. But you shouldn’t pretend that you’re someone you’re not.” She was right, Harry thought. So right. It would be so much easier if everyone was who they were. But it wasn’t easy like this in the modern society. From what Harry had learned, it’s never been easy. So it probably wouldn’t ever be.

“I can’t risk my place in the soccer team. The talent scouts are only coming ‘round now and I need an assignment to go to college. We both know that, mum.” He said, sounding more tired than defeated. Surprise, surprise.

“I thought you were proud of who you are.”

“… Thought so too”

Harry had heard enough. He moved now, but it wasn’t exactly on his own accord once again. He didn’t go back upstairs, where he should go. His feet found their way to the bottom of the stairs on their own, without his will moving him. He didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t stop. He went to the kitchen, stopping only half hidden by the door so that he could see Louis and Jay. His hair was muffled from sleep, he wore one of his father’s old grey t-shirts and a pyjama pants that was far too big for his lanky frame. His eyes were big and round and green and he was nervous, so nervous.

This wasn’t a good idea. He would get hurt in the end. Everything always hurt him, and this was Louis. But the boy that was speaking there wasn’t the one who had bullied him all through the past years. From what he’d heard, this was his Louis, he was back. And he couldn’t just let him go again. He had to fight for something for once, he had to stop being such a coward and make a move. Probably things would change.

Jay was the first one to spot him. Her eyes widened and her jaw went slack. She was surprised, shocked, even, when she saw him. She also knew that he shouldn’t be there. She stared at him for a long second, watched him standing there wordless, hesitant.

“Harry” she breathed out then. Really, it wasn’t more than a breath, a tiny whisper.

Yet, it made Louis freeze, then turn around. He moved awfully slowly, and his gaze was fixed on the floor. Only when he was completely turned around, he lifted it, and for the first time in a long while, those blue eyes met Harry’s and weren’t filled with anger. Instead, they were baby blue like Harry remembered them, warm and open, vulnerable and soft. That was how Harry used to know him.

“H-Harry”

His name on Louis’ lips sounded like a prayer or something, but it was spoken hesitantly, like he wasn’t used to it anymore. His whisper broke, and the way it did moved Harry. It moved him to do something really really stupid. Really, what he was doing now was just so freaking naïve. He stumbled through the room, closing the distance between them, both literally and metaphorically, and hugged Louis.

He buried his face somewhere between Louis’ shoulder and his neck, folding himself around the smaller boy. Louis himself was frozen for a second, like he couldn’t quite follow the progress, but then he melted into Harry, his arms slinging tightly around Harry’s shoulders, holding him close. Harry sucked in a deep breath. It smelled like home.

It felt like home.

“I’m sorry” Louis mumbled into Harry’s neck, and Harry knew he meant it. He could tell from the way Louis voice quivered when he said it, the way he only snuggled closer.

The curly haired tightened his grip on Louis’ waist, it was the only answer he could give Louis; he was sure the boy understood though. Then, he let go. He felt like the hug hadn’t lasted long enough, but they needed to take small steps. So the boys broke apart, looking at each other while doing so. Harry met Louis’ deep blue eyes, and something fell into space. Harry couldn’t tell what it was, but it was good, it was better.

Yeah, that was it. It felt like it would get better now. Well, he was realistic; he knew it wouldn’t just be rainbows and butterflies now. It wasn’t fine yet, there was a long way to go. But he knew, or at least he had to believe, that they could do it. There would come a time where he wouldn’t be lost, where he wouldn’t be alone. And he knew because he had won Louis back. Not entirely, not yet. But right now the boy standing in front of him was the boy who’d been his best friend through all of his childhood, not the boy who he had feared for so long.

Perhaps thinking like this was dangerous. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. Most likely Harry would get hurt again, most likely his scars would get ripped open again. But now he knew that there was something that could be worth all that pain in the end. His best friend wasn’t entirely lost yet. He could have him back when they both fought for long enough and managed to build the trust that had once bonded them so tightly back up.

“I’m so sorry Harry” Louis murmured, and now that he said Harry’s name again, he seemed relieved. Harry felt it too. It was like a weight lifted off his chest. “Did you hear everything or …?”

Harry nodded. Of course, he’d missed parts of the beginning. But he knew what Louis talked about and he’d heard everything important, so that wasn’t even a lie.

There was a silence between them in the empty room (Jay had silently retreated when Harry had hugged Louis because she was a lot smarter than Harry and knew when to step back and let people be unheard) and it wasn’t exactly comfortable. They were both fiddling idly, not really knowing what to do next.

“Zayn and Liam are so gonna kill me when they find out you know” Louis joked awkwardly in the end, and it broke some of the tension when Harry smirked. Louis smiled back lightly, almost shyly. “Yeah, I get it, you’re not telling anybody” he said, like Harry had given him a proper answer. It felt good. Harry nodded – he wasn’t going to tell anybody, even if he actually talked to anyone. Not that he did. He just wasn’t ready.

Louis let his fingers cart through his hair, and he lifted his gaze to the ceiling for a moment, his fingers squeezing his neck. He was nervous. “See, I can’t tell you it will stop instantly. I need the soccer scholarship, I really do. I’m not smart enough to make it to a proper college on other ways.”

He was just too lazy, Harry thought, but that wasn’t exactly something that needed to be told now.

“That’s why I need Stan and his mates. But it’s only a few more months, and then it’ll get better, ok?” Louis said again. His eyes fell back onto Harry’s. “I promise”

Harry looked at him for a long moment. He could tell, however, Louis wasn’t lying when he promised. It would probably be hard for both of them while Louis still had to be not-Louis. But Harry understood that Louis couldn’t change. He didn’t blame him, not for anything. So he nodded, slowly. Then he went to the fridge and took out a bottle of water. He’d almost forgotten about it, but now there was tension flickering through the air, thick and awkward, and it made him hyperaware of his body and his raw throat.

“Yeah” Louis breathed out. “Ok” They both didn’t know what to do. “I think I’ll just –“ Louis gestured to the door, managing to say that he would go upstairs now. Harry nodded while drinking, still watching the older boy. The corner of Louis’ mouth lifted. “G’night Harry”

Harry smirked at him – he never did more than smirk, so it basically meant that he smiled. Louis strolled out of the kitchen and when Harry heard him taking the stairs, he sank back against the counter, letting out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry didn’t cut that night, which was kind of surprising but kind of easy to understand as well. It was already late, and whatever had happened down in the kitchen had shaken him awake and let him think a lot. If he would now additionally to that cut too, he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night at all.

But he needed. Because the next day, that dull Sunday, was the day of Anne’s funeral. He forced himself to fall asleep, the stuff with Louis had to wait, he had to figure it out when there was a lot more space in time. Today was important. Today was the day he would say goodbye to his mum. It would be the last time he had to do this. Then she would be buried ten feet under the ground, and her memories would fade while life went on without her.

Not his memories. But the memories of the few people who actually remembered her.

Harry knew that there wouldn’t be many people who’d attend the funeral. Back in his childhood, Anne had had many friends. He still knew how once a week, his mum would go to meet up with her clique of friends, all women, mothers who knew where they stood and that they were where they wanted to be. But when Anne had changed, her friends had turned their backs on her. Well, more like Anne had shoved them away. Jay, Jay had been his mother’s best friend. And Anne had shoved her away, kind of like Louis had done with Harry, just basically the wrong way around.

Still, she was there.

Jay didn’t only attend the funeral; she also now took care of Anne’s only child that survived so far. She looked after him. For the funeral itself Jay lent Harry one of her ex-husband’s old suits that she still kept in the house. It was a little bit saggy on him, since Mr Tomlinson hadn’t been longer, but much broader than him, but it was better than some ratty shirt and jeans. And Harry didn’t even need to start what it meant to him that he was allowed to stay with them. It was just so much more than he could’ve asked for.

Well, on that morning, Harry tried his best to look formal. He wore that stupid suit and he combed his hair, even though all his trying to get the unruly curls in control failed. He knew his mum would’ve wanted him to look good. And he tried his best for her, because he always would do everything for her. She was his mother, and he loved her. Even after all this time, after all the shit that went down. It was somehow weird, wasn’t it? No, it was just the love of a child towards their mother.

The funeral itself would take place after church, around 11am. They’d meet the reverend afterwards at the graveyard; they would have the ceremony, and then go home again. The usual stuff. They’d decided they wouldn’t go to church itself, because Jay was sure Harry wouldn’t like it. She was right. He’s never been one to believe in god. If there would’ve been a god, there would be no war, no sadness, no depression, no suicide. There wouldn’t be hate and bullying. Life would still be worth something.

But it wasn’t. So there wasn’t a god either.

When it was time to go, Harry went downstairs – he’d hidden in the guest room during the last hour – and faced Jay and Fizz standing there in dark, formal clothes. But not only them. The surprise was that Louis had joined them as well, wearing a slim fitting dark grey suit and an unreadable expression on that face. Harry was startled by Louis’ appearance. Like what the fuck, what was he doing here? There was so much unspoken between them, but apparently after last night, something between them had changed.

Harry looked at Louis and the older boy simply looked at him. His eyes, they were soft again. It was his Louis, at least partly. And now there was a small blush spreading across that delicate face just before he turned his gaze down. Harry honestly didn’t know whether he was glad that Louis was there. It would be hard, more than just a little. Harry was already short to a breakdown, and Louis wasn’t exactly a person who could soothe that down. He also wasn’t exactly the person Harry wanted on his side at Anne’s funeral. Well, he kind of was. But not the Louis he knew the boy had become. He wanted that ten year old boy on his side, with that foolish grin and that warm hand that he could grip when it got too scary.

The boy he would never get back again.

Fizz was, to say the least, confused when Louis followed them outside to the car. She looked from Louis to Harry and back again until finally settling on Harry, her eyebrows lifted in a suspicious motion. “Did I miss something, or -?” she left the question unfinished.

Harry only shrugged. This wasn’t the time to explain what had happened last night. Neither was the time now to think about it. It would’ve been a distraction, yeah. But he didn’t want one. His mum deserved unshared attention. At least tonight.

Fizz held up her hands in defence. “Alright, ok, I get it. You don’t wanna talk about it. “

“Felicite” Louis scolded, and he honestly sounded annoyed by his little sister. “He doesn’t talk” Harry didn’t miss the way how Louis still didn’t use his name. He still missed the sound of his own name coming out of that stupid mouth. No matter in which context.

“Wrong, _Louis_ ” Fizz sassed back, without batting an eyelash. She looked older than only fifteen in that casual black dress, hair tied up in a knot, and that perfect bitch face. “He just doesn’t use words.”

Louis’ blue eyes flickered to Harry for a second, and you could see how they softened when they looked at the taller yet younger boy. Only a tad, only ever so slightly. But both Fizz and Harry saw it. Then, he turned and slipped into the passenger seat of Jay’s old German family car. “Just get inside” he grumbled.

Louis had never liked losing.

For once, both did what Louis told them, and Jay, who’d been silently watching their children, started the engine and drove off.

Harry just felt anxious and restless, he felt it nagging in the back of his head and shaking his bones. A part of him didn’t want to attend this fucking funeral. It felt too final, and it was too soon. Not that he could decide whether he would go or not. It had never been a question. After all, it was his mum. And it was too early that he left her, too early to never get her back.

Of course, things had been broken during the past months. Years, even. Of course she’d kind of forgotten about everything but the alcohol. Of course, living with her had sucked. Of course, he wished she was better now. But she was still his mum, she was still the last part of home and family he’d had.

Now, it was even more obvious that he was alone on this world. The last Styles to live. He was alone. Completely and utterly alone. And got, he wasn’t ready for this. He would never be ready for this. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted his mum back. And his sister. And his father. And his whole goddamn family, and their house and his childhood that’d been taken from him the moment his sister offed herself.

Harry was buried that deep inside his head, his anxiety, that he didn’t even realize that they’d arrived at the graveyard. He just sat there and tried to stop his slippery fingers from shaking, balling them to fists, one hand crumpling that paper with these words he’d chosen so carefully. He just turned the tune of his surroundings off, as well as his thoughts. Just breathe, he told himself. It would be ok. He had to stay calm. He needed to stay calm. He couldn’t do this otherwise, and he had to. He owed her.

In the end, it was that paper that held him upright and gave him the strength when he finally heaved his lanky frame out of the car. His clumsy fingers clung to It when he joined the Tomlinsons outside, his head was hanging low, straws of his chocolate curls falling into his eyes. He couldn’t make himself look up, stare at anything else than the floor underneath him.

He felt sick.

“C’mon Harry” Fizz murmured, her hand hovering over his back, a warm, reassuring pressure. “You can do it” She guided him and Harry was glad she did. He was glad because he was lost, he lost his way a long time ago and he didn’t know where to go, what to do.

Slowly, the black-clothed small group made their way between the simple grey gravestones and huge trees that reached for the sky with long, bony black fingers, their branches that already lost most of their leaves. These on the other hand were scattering on the floor, too heavy from the last week’s rain to be moved by the breeze ghosting over the graveyard, but not heavy enough not to rustle underneath the people’s steps.

The picture was somehow cold and lost with the dying grass, the black tree trunks and the heavy cold sky. But Harry found peace in that sight, found himself inside him. It was so familiar to him. His mind was a pretty similar place to this one. Cold, empty, forgotten memories, silent tears.

The reverend didn’t fit inside that picture. He was a tall, slender man in his mid-fifties, wearing a black robe and clutching the bible in his pale fingers. His eyes were too bright for this place, and when he spoke, his voice wasn’t dark enough either.

“Mrs Tomlinson, hello! Felicite, Louis, nice to see you” He spoke. He greeted them first because they were walking in front of Harry, Jay and Louis kind of hiding the curly haired from the man’s gazes as if to protect him while Fizz was still holding him upright just with that small hand on his back, spreading out above his spine. Then, he looked at Harry. Only then the smile faltered, but he still didn’t seem to understand that this was a matter of sadness, of missing, of seriousness.

“Mr Styles, I’m so sorry for your loss. God bless your mother, may he take her into his arms carefully. May he bless you too, you deserved better. You both did.” Harry didn’t shake that man’s hand, he didn’t really listen either. He just concentrated to calm down his heartbeat and his breathing that were both erratic like he’d just ran a marathon. He would collapse if he stayed like this.

“So, shall we?”

And so they went over to the Styles’ family’s grave. Harry hadn’t been there for a few months. He wasn’t one to visit this place a lot. Not that he didn’t have the time. But he thought already enough about his dad, about Gemma. He didn’t need the sight of their names carved into stone to remind him they were gone and not coming back.

On the other hand, if he thought about it now, it filled him with guilt. He should’ve come here more often, lighting candles and bringing flowers every other week like it was tradition, like people used to do to keep the memory of their loved ones alive. But he’d never done, and the two graves of the two persons that meant the most to him just looked dead and sad. And the gaping hole where they’d already lowered his mum’s coffin into didn’t make it any better.

Couldn’t they just bury him with them?

Fizz’ hand slipped now, instead of holding his back, her small hand slipped into his. He didn’t entwine their fingers, but she held his hand, squeezed it lightly, giving him something he could hold onto. It seemed like she knew. Like she knew he wanted to go and this was her way of holding him back, of telling him she wanted him to stay. It was a good feeling, but Harry probably only imagined that. Even if, he didn’t really register. He just knew that it helped to hold the tears back. For now.

The reverend talked for a while. He talked about how Anne had lost everything and no human deserved that. He said that she’d been love, that she would be missed. He again pointed out that she deserved better. Harry wanted to laugh at that. There was nothing better for his mum than having her family back. Not that he listened all that much. He didn’t. He just thought that he couldn’t cry; he just couldn’t. He wouldn’t humiliate himself like that, not in front of anybody. He needed to be strong.

In the end, the reverend asked whether somebody of them wanted to say a thing, and Harry remembered that crumpled paper that he was still clutching in his free hand. He couldn’t read it, even though everybody was looking at him, waiting for some reaction, wanting to hear something. He couldn’t do that. Not only that he didn’t talk. Even if he did. If he would read this paper, these words, he would cry like a baby and nobody would understand a word.

That moment, a heavy hand fell to Harry’s shoulder, making him jump and whirl around. “Come on, I know you wrote something. I can read it if you want me to.”

Harry looked at the tall young man with that messy brown quiff and that sharp featured face with those intense, firm brown eyes. He recognized him, even though he remembered him as a boy, with more baby fat on those cheekbones. The smile was the same though, even though it’d been a few years.

“Hey cousin” Nick Grimshaw said. “Sorry I couldn’t make it earlier. Stupid traffic”

And Harry, Harry just stared, in shock. Nick came from London, he was the son of his father’s sister’s husband’s brother. So basically, his aunt’s husband had a brother and his son was Nick. Technically they weren’t related, but their family had been pretty close before Harry’s father had died and Nick’s family had moved to London again, missing the noise of the capital. He had no freaking clue why the man who was only like, five years older than him, was there now, but it didn’t matter. It mattered that he was.

He also didn’t know why he gave them the paper. But he did, and that was what mattered. Somehow, he was glad that Nick was there, even though he was alone. He was there, he’d heard of Anne’s death and he’d come, remembering his somehow-aunt, even though he hadn’t had any contact in years. It felt nice, really. Of course, Jay, Louis and Fizz were here, but it would’ve been sadder if nobody who was at least considered family was here.

Nick went up to stand on the reverend’s spot. Everyone exchanged glances, only Harry simply watched his cousin.

“This is Harry’s, so …” He left this unfinished, straightened the paper, and started reading. “We all know, my mum hasn’t always been the best person. She had – she had major problems, she was drowning in them. But I don’t want to remember her like she’d been in the last time. My mother was a - a beautiful woman, with an amazing sense of humour and a laugh that could – that could lighten the whole room and make everyone at least smile, too. I do – do not blame her for being broken. Because if I do, I would blame her for – I would blame her for falling in – falling in love with my dad. And – and their love was –“

Nick had quivered from the very beginning, but now he cracked. His voice broke and the tears spilled over, and he lowered the paper. “Oh god, I can’t do this” he sniffed.

It shouldn’t have surprised anyone that it was neither Jay nor Fizz that took the paper from the sniffling man, but Louis did. Still, even Harry felt that sting of surprise. He wouldn’t have thought that Louis would even do that. But he did, he took the paper and went on, his voice firm, calm, yet filled with all that emotion he could neither pack into words nor into actions. And it made Harry cry the first tear, because these people, they weren’t doing that for him. They did that for his mother.

“And their love was the most pure and undying thing I’ve ever seen. I can only imagine what she lost when my dad died. She lost a part of herself with dad’s death, and she kind of died with Gemma when she committed a few years later. She loved them so much, and she lost them. I understand she was broken, I understand she tried to get away from all the shit fate laid upon her shoulders. I don’t blame that woman who she was in the end, that wasn’t my mum. Mum was a bright woman, positive, caring, intelligent, perfect. I lost her a long time ago already and I miss her every day, each a little more. But I know that wherever she is right now, she is better. Mum and Dad are together now, they are reunited and they look after Gemma together. They can be happy now, all three of them, and I’m glad they can.”

Louis’ hands fell down to his sides, useless, strength less. His blue eyes found Harry’s, dull, yet filled with tears. Louis was only on the verge while tears were streaming down Harry’s pale cheeks. But in that moment, you couldn’t tell who of them was in deeper pain.

“God, I’m such an asshole”


	12. Chapter 12

Nick sat between Harry and Louis. The two boys sat facing each other, Harry’s eyes fixed on the table, Louis’ eyes fixed on him. And Nick, Nick just sat there, trying to progress everything: He was confused. The ten year-old version of his younger cousin he remembered wouldn’t shut up about his best friend, his Boo Bear. He remembered how that deep green had glistened and how he had always said Louis’ name so gently, like it was the most precious thing he knew. Got, he’d loved him so much.

But now, now Harry was so sad and dull and these two boys, these young men who seemed to be meant for each other in the London man’s eyes, they were torn apart. The words of Harry’s speech and Louis’ reaction to them still hung in the air, thick and dark, even when they were back in the house of the Tomlinsons over an hour later.

Harry himself didn’t know how to work with that. Louis was right. He was an asshole. He’d been for most of the past years. Everyone knew it, but especially Harry had felt it. But why there? Why then? Why did Louis say that in that special moment? Harry didn’t understand. This whole day was just so confusing. Not only Louis. But why was Nick here, for example. Why did he come all the way from London just to bury a woman he hadn’t spoken to, hadn’t cared for in years?

Everything came tumbling down around him. He felt like going upstairs, curling in around himself on the mattress in the guest room and cry. Cry and cry and cry until no tears came out anymore and the exhaustion let his lids get too heavy to stay awake and then nap for a while. And when he would wake up, he would shred a little more of his skin and then he would cry a little more and then it would be bedtime and he could let himself fall into the darkness of his faceless nightmares. That sounded like something he could do today.

Not the whole family-socializing-thing.

“Harry, why didn’t you ever call? I would’ve been there, you know” Nick said.

Harry looked at the brownhaired and shrugged. Stayed wordless. Just like always. What should he say? That he’d wanted to do all of that alone? That would’ve been a lie. That he didn’t want him to know? That would’ve been a lie, too. That he thought that nobody would care if he tried, anyways? That would’ve been the truth, but he couldn’t say that.

“You know he doesn’t exactly speak, right?” Louis asked. He glanced at Nick briefly now, to give him one of many sassy Tomlinson-bitchfaces. This wasn’t about Harry though. For what felt like the first time, Harry wasn’t the target of Louis’ too sharp comments. For once, it was Nick. And Louis even went so far as defend Harry. A thing he’d never done before.

Nick was surprised. Of course he was. He only knew the curlyhaired boy as bubbly, noisy even. When Harry’d been younger, he’d been an annoying child that talked and asked many too many questions. “What? Why did you stop?”

Harry shrugged again. He didn’t talk because nobody wanted him. People weren’t interested in what he had to say. But he wasn’t going to tell that anyone. How did that sound? Yeah, I don’t talk because I don’t think you want to hear. He hadn’t cared before. All the people talked. But now he did, and his reasons were surprisingly pathetic. Well, not surprisingly. Since everything around him was pathetic. But still.

“C’mon Harry, don’t be shy. You know I only bite when my partner asks me to” Nick said. Nobody took the joke, but he didn’t care. He was one of those guys. He probably couldn’t do it in any different way. As well as he couldn’t stop touching people. Now he, again, reached out to grasp Harry’s shoulder and squeezed it. And Harry was pretty proud of himself when he didn’t shy away from the touch but only flinched underneath it. He’d been only been with the Tomlinsons for four days, but he had already made that much of a progress. It was a thing to be proud of.

“I’m your favourite cousin and you know it. You can talk to me.”

Harry took a deep, quivery breath. He had to keep himself from shaking with all the strength he had. Did Nick even realize what it meant? Did he realize what it meant that Harry didn’t speak and that he hadn’t planned on picking that up anytime soon? Apparently he hadn’t, because he was looking at the boy with so much expectation in his brown eyes that Harry just couldn’t help it.

He didn’t know where to find the strength to really use his tongue though, and to his surprise, he found himself searching for it in Louis’ eyes. He looked up at him to find the brown-haired already staring at him. He looked sad, that kind of that is well hidden but also so so obvious to someone who feels the same. He was kind of dull in that moment and Harry knew it was because of him. That it was because Louis had taken down his mask and started being himself around Harry. That gave him strength, definitely.

So he, took a deep breath, one that he held for a long second, and then he rasped out, “It doesn’t matter” His voice was deep, too deep for a boy of only sixteen years, and it was all low and raspy. You could hear its little use because it was too quiet, barely even audible and it sounded like every sound cost the boy a lot of energy. Which was true, honestly. It’s exhausting.

And it was surprising, too. Not only that he used it again. But also how it sounded, how it had changed. Not only to Harry, even though he was pretty much a lot surprised how it sounded. But if you looked at Louis now, you could see the utter shock written across his face. He was shocked from Harry’s voice, but it didn’t seem too bad. Harry thought he could also find relief somewhere, well hidden. He didn’t know. He just hoped it was true.

“What?” Nick gasped. It sounded more like he didn’t understand properly than like he couldn’t believe what Harry had said. Of course.

Harry looked away from Louis, at his cousin. He formed the words in his head carefully again. He didn’t want to risk anything. And he didn’t want to let this become something like routine. He didn’t want to pick up speaking again. Since everything that had happened. You know, people still didn’t want to listen. Nick was the exception. And he better didn’t get too much of Harry’s sounds.

“Why I don’t speak. It doesn’t matter.” And it really didn’t. It didn’t matter what he said if he talked – people wouldn’t care. It didn’t matter that he didn’t speak – people didn’t care. And it didn’t matter that Nick didn’t know – he wouldn’t change anything. This time, he didn’t speak as quiet as before, but still not significantly louder. It was good that the room was silent. Like this, the two other boys could understand him with him raising his voice.

Nick looked like he wanted to talk back. Tell him he was stupid, that he shouldn’t say shit like this. But that moment, Jay came inside the living room where the boys and the young man were seated. She already changed from the dress she’d worn into jeans and a light blue blouse, but her hair was still in that messy knot that couldn’t contain all of her locks.

“Nick? I don’t want to rush you, but you mentioned that you have a show by 6. If you wanna be back on time, you should be heading out soon.” She said politely. Nick was a radio host from the BBC, he made good money and he already was a little famous from what he’d told Harry. That little part that still cared about his cousin felt proud, but mostly he didn’t care. He couldn’t help himself. He basically cared about nobody anymore. Or at least he liked to tell himself that.

Nick smiled at the older woman. “Alright, thank you, Mrs Tomlinson.” And then he looked at Harry, standing up. “Alright, I better get going now. I don’t want to leave, but we’ll stay in touch, yeah? Here you’ve got my card, call me when you wanna talk or when you need anything. You’ll do that, will you?”

Harry only nodded, and then he was crashed in a short, too tight embrace. He wasn’t comfortable inside it because honestly, Nick wasn’t good at hugging. Or at least he wasn’t good at hugging Harry. But the man let go quickly, so Harry wasn’t one to complain.

“Louis, have an eye on my baby cousin, yeah?”

Louis stood up now, too, shook Nick’s hand. “I will. Thanks for swinging by, Nick.”

Nick nodded and grinned when they accompanied him to the door. Yes, Harry and Louis did that together. He grabbed his coat and shrugged it on. “I think it was worth it. And she deserved that. Really” And then, with a final, loud, “Bye Mrs Tomlinson!” the noisy London radio host was gone in a whirl of events, just as suddenly as he’d appeared, leaving Harry, once again, wordless. No, really, literally speechless.

Nick was just ridiculous.

“Let’s ... sit down?” Louis suggested weakly. It was awkward suddenly, being alone with a third person in the room with them. Harry looked down at the smaller boy and into those deep blue eyes. He still wasn’t used to seeing them soft again. He waited for their harshness to come back. But it didn’t. It didn’t come back; instead they were filled with suck a vulnerability that it shook Harry up to his bones.

He only nodded. They sat down on their spots again, and the curly haired boy just felt how tense he was becoming by the second. Right now, he craved the loneliness of his mum’s and his flat, the loneliness that had accompanied him every day. At least he didn’t have to hide, he didn’t have to restrain himself. Right now, he couldn’t just go upstairs and _cut cut cut_ and then _cry cry cry_ and always just _more more more_.

But he couldn’t simply be around Louis either. It had been easy, settling into Fizz’ presence and company. He liked her, as a person and around himself. She was gorgeous. The thing with Louis was that there was too much things unspoken between them. There was so much pain, so much stuff unspoken. It made him wanna cry, but it also made him want to shove it away at some point. Pathetic as it sounded, he wanted Louis back. He just wanted his Louis back.

“Hey boys, I’ll need to go get the twins from the grandparents. Fizz is in her room, and I don’t care what you guys are doing, just please neither crash yourselves or the house, yeah?” Jay popped in the room again. She was like a whirlwind, always around to soothe whatever was going on. She went over to the boys now, bowing down to pet Louis’ hair and then press a kiss to the top of his head. Louis smiled up at her with a warm expression, muttering a goodbye.

To Harry’s surprise, Jay repeated the procedure with himself. It was a strange sensation. Her fingers were soft in his hair and when her breath ghosted over him and her lips pressed firmly onto his hair, he held his breath because it felt good. He hadn’t felt that slight warm feeling in a long while. It was different to the other stuff he’d felt before. This was different. It felt like he was young again, and his mum was leaving to get groceries or when she was dropping him off at school.

It felt like he had a mother again.

“See you later, boys” Jay smiled and hurried off the house. Everybody was leaving, but it didn’t tear at Harry. Jay would come back, and Nick … well, he hadn’t even really registered that he was there. So he couldn’t really comprehend that he’d been left right now. It was … ok, to say the least. He didn’t feel pain, actually, he didn’t even feel anything.

Welcome back numbness.

But that wasn’t even the point. The point was that Harry didn’t feel like he’d been left because he knew these people were coming back. They didn’t leave and wouldn’t come back. They would be back here with him sooner or later. Could anybody else even understand that feeling? Probably not. Because it was just too foreign to feel like that, and Harry didn’t really understand.

God, he needed to get rid of that numbness.

It was already nagging at his thoughts.

“Sooooo” Louis said after a while, attempting to break the tense, awkward silence in which both weren’t really settling. “That was your cousin Nick then, eh?”

Harry pretty much shrugged and nodded in the same second. He didn’t feel like answering. He couldn’t even control his own thoughts, so how the fuck should he control his mouth?

Louis slumped in his seat at that, and he looked pretty much lost then and there. A sight that made Harry’s heart clench – Louis shouldn’t feel lost or hurt or broken or anything close to what Harry was feeling. Nobody should do that. And Louis shouldn’t look like that because of Harry. He was not worth it, not at all.

“You’re not gonna talk to me now, are you?” Louis asked, and when Harry slightly shook his head, he frowned, casting his eyes downwards. “I really fucked up big time.”

Harry’s heart clenched even more. He wish he could tell him. He wish he could tell him that it was ok, that he wasn’t angry, that they would be fine again. He wanted to tell Louis that he still believed in him, that he understood why he’d done all this in the past, that he didn’t blame him for anything. He wish he could tell Louis that he forgave him, that he was ready to start it all over again.

But now was the wrong moment. He couldn’t do it, not so soon after his mum’s funeral. Generally, he just wasn’t ready. He didn’t say that he wouldn’t be any time in the future. But right now he just wasn’t yet and he couldn’t change that. So he simply looked away as well, instead staring at his hands, twisting in his lap. His heart was hammering in his chest.

Then he looked up again. It was worth a try.

Louis did the same in the same second, they were mirroring each other’s actions, and Harry felt like crying once more. Back when they’d been younger, they’d often been in perfect synchronization, moving together like a man and his shadow. There had been a lot moments like this one where they’d just look at each other exact the same second. The memories from all those other times and the realization that this was just luck that they’d done the same in the same instant hit him hard, made him want to scream.

It was definitely worth a try.

Harry took a deep breath, his hands carting through his hair while he was staring directly into Louis’ deep blue eyes. “I wish I could” Just a whisper, broken and barely even audible, but Louis got it. And Louis was definitely thrown out of balance. He just stared, gasped for air through a gaping mouth. His eyes were so wide, reminding Harry of a summer day sky with tiny puffy clouds and straws of sunlight parting the blue.

“I’ll be there” Louis answered, equally quiet. It was a promise, a heavy one. Harry knew in the moment Louis said those words that he really meant them, that he wouldn’t break the promise he’d just given. Harry knew, and it soothed a part of his pain, but only a tiny bit. Well, no, it didn’t soothe it. But it made it more bearable.

Then, the moment was broken. Harry didn’t know what it was, but something snapped and they both moved out of it, almost scared of the intensity. Also, they couldn’t just sit there in silence. It was strange because there’d been a time where they didn’t even need to share a single word with each other, where they just had to look at each other and know what they were about to say. He wanted those times back.

“Jeez, I need to get rid of this suit.” Louis exclaimed, hands stroking his thighs in a nervous motion before clapping on his knees and then standing up. “How about Fizz and I will prepare lunch for us?”

Harry agreed silently, getting off the couch as well. They went up the stairs shoulder to shoulder, their feet taking the stairs with the same rhythm. Another thing Harry missed, just another thing he wanted back but never would get back.

On the top of the stairs, they parted, but that shy, soft smirk Louis gave Harry before they did so was enough for Harry not to try to kill himself that night.


	13. Chapter 13

From then on, it got better. Well, not exactly better. But it was easier now. Harry learned to accept. He accepted that he belonged to the Tomlinson’s. Gradually he shifted further into their family while he got to know them altogether. He learned that Daisy and Phoebe liked to play with his hair while watching cartoons. He learned that Lottie didn’t dislike him, she just didn’t know how to treat him and how to act around him. He learned that Fizz and him worked well together, doing homework and hanging out mostly in silence. He learned that Jay liked to see him as her own son and that she enjoyed treating him like one, even although he wasn’t.

He didn’t get rid of his old life completely though. He didn’t stop working at the bakery, for example. He took Jay’s bike every morning at 4 am to drive over there, and the first time he got money while living in the Tomlinson household, he wanted to give it to Jay to pay for all the favours he was given. But the woman declined the money with the stern calmness of a mother. She told him he should save it up, maybe buy some Christmas presents for the others. He did what she said because actually, that thought sounded amazing. He hadn’t bought presents in some long agonizing years.

Christmas itself came around quickly. On the first Saturday in December, they all decorated the house together. It started to smell like cinnamon and winter, like candles and needles. They filled the rooms with lights and little figures of angels, snowmen and Santas. It was beautiful, homey and so nice. It remembered him of his childhood when his family had done exactly the same, but he wasn’t filled with sadness, but with a hesitant warmth that could make you smile if you let it.

And when he found a little chocolate Santa and a bag of self-made cookies in his hoes on December 6th, he may or may not cried a little.

It was all too good to be true. Except that it totally was true.

Also, Harry picked up talking again. At first, his answers were rare, low and hesitant, but soon he started answering louder, less quipped. He wasn’t used to it anymore, so when he started again, it was only to answer questions that needed more than a nod or a shake of his head. But then he saw how glad Jay was about that development and how proud she would look when he said something, so he started doing it more often, actually talking and telling things by himself. He’d never seen Fizz that happy. Like, those people liked it when he talked. It made him feel less shitty about himself.

And when the twins asked him to read them a bedtime story, it was just a bonus that made it even better.

Life became easy like that, and Harry was slowly getting comfortable where he was. The best thing about everything was that Louis didn’t influence it negatively. At home, he was kind to Harry, if not a little shy. He was so calm and nice around him, and Harry kind of forgot how fearing him felt like. Sometimes they would talk, and Harry would like it because Louis was still Louis and harry had missed that boy. It wasn’t the same, Harry wouldn’t even consider them friends, but they weren’t enemies anymore and that was another one of the positive developments in his life.

School was a different story, but it definitely got better as well.

Harry was still alone, Louis was still with Liam, Zayn and Stan, but Louis stopped harassing him in the hallways or classes. Harry never met his eyes, but he felt Louis’ gaze on him and he knew that he didn’t need to be afraid of Louis, not anymore. That didn’t mean the others stopped, too. Stan was still the same douchebag he’d always been and when he picked up on Louis’ change, he confronted him. Louis said that it was because his mum would kill him if she found out.

The thing was, Stan believed him because Louis never gave him a reason not to.

So it was a bit easier there as well because now the other three boys of Louis’ clique came less and less over to bully him as well. Now, Harry would go by unnoticed more often than not. It was a good feeling. Ok, he was still alone, but the fear nagging in his stomach had gone, and he wasn’t as lonely anymore as well because now he had a family he could come home to.

Christmas came, and with that Louis birthday, and Harry loved it.

Previously, he’d bought presents for them all, and on Christmas eve, he couldn’t wait for them to unpack his stuff. He got Fizz the new One Republic album because he knew she loved it and because it was amazing. Lottie got a necklace with a cute owl pendant because it fitted with her eyes and the way she dressed. And the twins a thick second-hand book filled with fairytales and short stories, together with a promise to read them to them. For Jay, he bought a new palm for their living room because her old one had died due to too much water. He informed himself and found out that the one he bought in the end needed lots of water. So Jay wouldn’t be able to drown the plant this time.

And Louis, Louis got the simplest present of them all, yet the one that came from closest to his heart. Harry gave him one of his old sweaters from the band he knew they both adored – some classic punk, The Ramones. He used to wear it even though it was even too big for him and his lanky frame, and he hoped Louis would like it even though the blue was slightly faded already. And he’d made him a folder. He just bought one of these one-pound-ugly-black-things you could buy on every corner and then he printed out loads of pictures from the Ramones that he glued to it with this self-glueing-transparency. And on the inside, in the back, Harry put one especially special photo: a photo from Harry and Louis together, around ten years old, arms slung around each other and goofy smiles on their faces. Harry had poked Louis’ side continuously and the smaller boy looked up to smile fondly at Harry.

He watched Louis unpack in wonder, more closely than how he’d watched everyone else, and saw those deep blue eyes widen and then soften when he found the photo. Louis looked up at him from where he sat on the floor besides the Christmas tree and smiled brightly. Then he stood up, pulled Harry to his feet and into his arms. He’d hugged him tightly, wearing that too big sweater he looked gorgeous inside, and whispered a “Thanks Haz, it’s wonderful. I love it.” Into Harry’s ear.

It made everything so worth it.

Harry himself got a new phone – he had to sell his old one about a year ago -, a nice comfy blue hoodie with yellow print, a laptop and a drawing set with new pencils and charcoals. Well, Lottie gave him her old Samsung when she got a new one, and when Jay announced Fizz would get a new laptop for Christmas, she decided that Harry would get her old one. And she got him the pencils and everything because she “loved what he did”. It made him blush, but he was grateful for everything – it was so much more than what he deserved.

He instantly took the chance to draw the twins under the Christmas tree playing with their new Barbie horse stable, and Jay found it that amazing that she instantly took it and pinned it to the freezer. Harry had never been more proud of what he had done before.

New Year’s followed quickly after, and snow did as well. During winter break he mostly spent the time outside with Fizz and the twins, building snowmen, having snowball fights and sleigh races. He would sleep long, eat healthily and actually enjoy himself. He laughed again and cut less, so he considered it good. On New Year’s, Jay and the girls drove to their grandparents while Louis had a small party with Stan, Zayn, Liam and some girls called Perrie, Eleanor and Danielle. Fizz asked him to come with them to Leeds, but Harry didn’t want to. He spent the night alone in his silent room, just because he could. He missed the silence and peace of being alone sometimes. So he just sat there all night, read one of the books Fizz lent him and drew blue sky and sunshine between thick long dark lashes.

The room, by the way, had changed in the last weeks, too. At first, it was just a guest room, somehow homey, but not personal, just a room anyone could sleep in. Now, when Harry sat there shortly before midnight, it was his room. There were his drawings pinned to the walls where he’d put them with Fizz and personal stuff scattered around the room. There was his phone, his laptop, and the books he got from both the family and himself when he got money left for buying new ones. He hadn’t changed the bed cloth, but he liked that one. At night, he would now look at their initials and smile because maybe there was a second chance.

Back to the events. When the people downstairs in the garden started shouting the countdown, Harry sat down on his place on the windowsill. He watched them, the scene he was given. They were happy, slightly buzzed and partying. Still, he wouldn’t want to be down there for anything. So when the clock hit zero, Harry looked at Louis from his window, and Louis, when that Eleanor-girl fell around his neck, looked up at Harry and smiled.

For the first time after those dark years Harry’s year started with a warm smile, and it felt good, filled him with that warmth he still had to get used to. It made him feel that spark on hope again. Maybe, life wouldn’t get too bad this year. At least he’d been clean for a week and there’s that boy who smiled at him even when the most beautiful girl in school was in his arms.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad in school as well when it started Mid-January. Maybe everything would really get better.


	14. Chapter 14

The morning school started again, Harry was surprised to find Louis waiting for him when he got ready to go back to the place he thought of as his personal hell. Louis had gotten a car from his grandparents for his eighteenth birthday, a dark blue mini cooper, and now Harry thought the other boy would be gone and off when he was only leaving. But there Louis was, wearing a beanie, and a scarf and – and Harry’s sweater underneath a thick winter jacket.

A smile crept on Harry’s face when he saw it. “Still here?” he asked.

“Yah” Louis smiled back at Harry, a smile that he seemed to keep all for Harry. “Mind if I give you a ride?” he wondered then, and there was actually a little blush colouring his cheeks. Harry wanted to believe that it came from a puff of cold wind hitting his face.

“I – you’d do that?” Harry was surprised, to say the least. The Louis he thought he would have to face today never would’ve done that. They were back in school. The rules were different here. They weren’t somewhat friends in public.

Louis actually chuckled. “Just get inside. Jeez”

Harry obliged. The car was well-kept and smelled like cinnamon and vanilla. It smelled like Louis and when Louis started and a song of Nirvana instantly filled the air, Harry had to keep another smirk to himself. This car was definitely Louis’. Couldn’t be any other way.

They didn’t say a word while they were driving to school, and it was just a tad awkward, but mostly just unusual. They weren’t alone often. More like, there would be one of the girls around, too, because nobody really wanted to let the two boys get some alone time. Not that Harry minded, because he didn’t. He didn’t like the slight tension in the air. But he didn’t know what to do against it.

So Harry stayed wordless like in so many other situations as well, and only spoke up when Louis parked the car outside the school. They were just sitting there, glancing at each other shyly. “Thank you” Harry muttered.

“No problem” Louis took his bag from the bag and smiled at Harry, only ever so slightly. Their eyes didn’t want to let each other go, and so they just stared for a second. Harry was drowning in the deep blue seas between Louis’ lashes again and when he planned on drawing them again tonight, that was his business and only his.

Louis was the one who broke the eye contact, turning to climb out of the cubicle. “Be careful today, alright?” He was fiddling with the too long sleeves of the sweater, pulling them out from under his jacket and hiding his fingers from the cold underneath.

Harry was the slightest bit confused. Louis had never actually warned him. They’d both never spoken about what was going on in school, just a silent agreement that it was better now than it had been before and that they should be thankful. And why should he be? It wasn’t like Stan would ever do anything. Well, nobody knew. But there had never happened something severe, so why should they start now?

Still, Harry nodded, lifting the corner of his mouth in a smirk one last time before retreating, leaving Louis alone. Well, it was more like he left to be alone and Louis left to find his friends wherever they were chilling on campus already. Once more, Harry wished Fizz would already go to their school, not still to middle school. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. Not that he ever really wanted. But like, now he actually had someone he could call a friend and he was glad to have her around, but she couldn’t because she wasn’t on his school – where he honestly needed her most. So it kind of totally sucked.

Harry’s eyes stayed fixed to the ground as soon as he entered the school building. This was the best way to go by unnoticed – he looked for where he was going so he didn’t ran into somebody or something, but he never looked up far enough to meet eyes. He learned that when eye contact was made, people mentioned you. So he did everything he could not to be. He hurried to his locker just like that, then took out the supplies he would need for his Maths class and then hurried on to the math room. He was on time, just with the bell, and he managed getting there without meeting Louis and his clique.

Maths was boring as shit, obviously. Who was interested in the increasing and decreasing behaviour of curves? Well, at least not him. So, as always, Harry started to let his mind wander. He thought of his home. A few months back, the thought would’ve made him sad because it meant alcohol and dirt and a drunk mother who didn’t recognize him anymore. But now it was a place he liked to return to. Of course, he’d become an orphan in the progress of getting a new home. Well, more like he became an orphan and then got that new home he didn’t want to have at first.

But he’d won another home and another family, a family who accepted him. He’d won sisters who liked him around or even adored him in case of the twins and a mother who watched out for him and made sure he was ok. And he also kind of gotten a brother, even though Harry knew they’d never exactly been close like brothers and even if they’d get close again, it wouldn’t be in a brotherly way. They’d always been something else.

So, now harry had a home that was worth coming home to and a family that was worth sticking around to. He had a room he could really call his own and that he liked being in, he had people who wanted to hear what he had to say and that would be there for him if he needed them. Also, he had longer clean periods, and if he cut, his cuts wouldn’t be as deep and dangerous anymore. He hadn’t cut on his arms in a month now, fresher scars and wounds were only to be found on his hips and stomach. He didn’t cut his thighs because of the lack of unscarred skin, but that was nothing he needed to point out.

Also, the sleep he had wasn’t broken with nightmares or interrupted with crying and duties. He slept enough now, long and healthy, deep enough that he actually felt fresh and awake when he got up for work in the mornings. Only two months ago, he would’ve been sad, tired, lonely and broken. Now he was still broken, but in the progress of being put back together, and he was probably alone at the moment, but he wasn’t lonely anymore, because when he’d come back home later today, there would be people waiting for him, there would be a warm house and self-made food waiting for him.

He never would’ve thought that his mum’s death would be the best thing that had happened to him. That actually sounded cruel. He missed his mum, he really did. But he missed the person she’d been when his dad and his sister had still been alive, when they’d been happy and a family. And he’d lost that person a long time ago replaced by that insane alcoholic he had to call his mum during the past years. He didn’t miss that one, not a little bit. So yeah, he was sad to have lost his mum, but he was glad that the dark time had finally ended for him.

After Maths stretched out long enough, the bell rang, and Harry had a short break before he had to head for Ethics. Of course he wasn’t lucky enough to have two classes which rooms were close together. Of course Ethics would be on the other end of the building, and of course he had to make the way over alone. Sometimes, he just wasn’t lucky. Like today, he could already feel it when he left the Maths classroom. Things maybe were getting better at home, but school was still the living hell. Purgatory, even.

“Oh, look at who’s there!”

Of course he wouldn’t go by unnoticed. He wasn’t lucky like that. Harry lowered his head further, chocolate coloured curls falling into his downcast eyes, and scrunched his shoulders further up. He knew hoping didn’t help and never became true, but he still hoped they would leave him be. Just for today, just because it was the first school day. Or maybe, he briefly wondered, maybe Louis would step in, hold them back, and protect him. But he instantly forgot about that one because if he would look up now, he wouldn’t see his Louis there, the Louis he’d been getting comfortable around for the past weeks. This was Louis the football star. Louis the popular kid. Louis the asshole.

“I’m talking to you!” Stan shouted.

“Hey, faggot!” That one was Zayn. “Are you ignoring us?”

No, he wasn’t actually ignoring them, he thought bitterly. He was just fleeing. He was fleeing from being humiliated by those guys, because that would wake up his insecurities, his demons, his pain. And he wasn’t ready for that, he wasn’t strong enough yet. So yeah, maybe he was ignoring them. He wasn’t succeeding either.

“Won’t hear us alongside all that queerness.” Liam joked. The problem was just, Stan wasn’t up for joking and teasing today. Apparently, the boy wanted some of the good stuff today. Some of the real stuff. Probably he just hadn’t gotten off often enough during winter break.

Still, not nice. Not nice at all. At least not for Harry, because before he could even think another word, he was shoved into the nearest lockers. Ouch, that one actually hurt. And now he could show off his body coordination, too, because of course he flailed, stumbled and tumbled to the floor, together with all of his stuff. And ouch, that one actually hurt a lot. Like, really a lot. It only got worse when Stan kicked at him. The boy hissed, curling, trying to protect his head and stomach, so he wouldn’t get severely hurt.

He was prepared for punches, kicks, mean things shouted at him.

But he wasn’t expecting what happened now. At first, there was just the lack of action that startled him. And then, there was a voice.

“You can’t do that! Like, honestly, not cool at all. Bullying isn’t cool, dudes. And I don’t know him, but I’m sure as hell he doesn’t deserve that. You don’t even know if he’s homosexual, do you? And now you better fuck the hell off or I will stomp you to the floor so that you’re that big with hat!”

Harry uncurled and stared with big green eyes at his saviour. The boy was a lanky blond-haired guy with pale freckled skin and bright blue eyes that were so different from Louis’. He had a cute face, but his mouth was set into a firm line while he scowled at Stan and the other boys. It seemed kind of ridiculous, this piece of bone and freckles defending Harry from five of the best soccer players in this school.

Harry couldn’t help but like that boy. It wasn’t just because he was just a tad too brave, so that it edged into foolishness, and could talk without dot and comma. But it was because he was the first one to ever stand up for Harry in school. It was amazing how much a little talk could change.

And apparently, the boys didn’t think too differently. They were taken aback, looking startled, before finally retreating and going to class. “You’ll regret that” Stan growled dangerously, making Harry shiver.

“Merely doubt that” The blond boy gave back with a grin. He made sure that they were really leaving, not coming back because he gave stupid comments, he turned around and offered Harry a pale, long-fingered hand. “They’re idiots. Do they do that more often?”

Harry shrugged, hesitated, then took the hand he was offered and got to his feet again with his help before collecting his stuff from the floor. “Thanks” he murmured, a blush creeping on his cheeks.

“No probs, man” Blondhead said. “I’m Niall, by the way, Niall Horan. New in town.”

And Harry decided that yeah, he did like him. The boy had a bright open smile and he was being nice to him, accepting, protecting. So yeah, why not socializing, showing the new Harry to someone that wasn’t named Tomlinson? “Harry. Styles. Nice to meet you.”

“Same here, same here” Niall smiled again, before looking at him more intently, as if searching for something. “Are you ok? I just don’t understand people like this. They’re such a giant shower of cunts. Bet they suck dick themselves.”

This made Harry actually laugh. “Yeah, probably right. And thanks, I’m fine.” He didn’t tell Niall that he was hundred percent right. He had promised Louis that he wouldn’t tell anyone about what he knew about Liam and Zayn. Well, Louis wouldn’t be the one who’d get harm if anyone found out. But not even Zayn and Liam deserved to be treated the way gay people were usually treated in this school. And if they found out that Harry was the one who’d told … well, that was a poor suicide attempt, really.

“What class do you have next?” Niall asked Harry. He seemed rather interested in Harry, and willing to tag along. It wasn’t surprising since he was new and hadn’t found friends that told him to stay away from weird kid Harry Styles because if he didn’t he’d be screwed.

“Ethics” And even after all that time, curly knew how to keep conversation going. “You?”

“Chemistry, ugh. And after lunch, I’ve got Arts.”

“Honestly?” Harry exclaimed before he could stop himself. It felt good to talk to Niall. “Me, too. Let’s go together, then?” Whoa. That was really something completely new about him.

“Sounds great. Oh, and hey, we could have lunch together, too? Like, if you want to. I could just sit with you and your friends. Since I’m new and everything …” Niall suggested, his eyes glistening with hope. He had a lot in common with a leprechaun right now.

Harry didn’t tell him that there weren’t any friends to sit with. “Sure, sounds great. See you then!”

“Aye, by, Harry!”

Harry stared with wonder after the blond boy.

Did he just -? Yeah, he did just.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry still remembered days where Louis would defend him in school. Harry has never been the most popular kid, and there had always been people who thought making fun of the lanky curly-haired kid was funny. And back in primary school, he was lanky, awkward, blushing a lot, and the other pupils didn’t really like him.

They liked to call him names, actually. There weren’t bad ones, just stuff like “tomato” or “Harry Style-less” because that was what kids said in primary school. The thing was, for a seven year-old, it hurt just like the name “queer” or “faggot” hurt in high school age. And then those kids were even more creative. “Harry loves Louis” they had chanted, over and over again. That was what had hurt most. Because Harry didn’t understand – yes, he loved Louis, that boy was his best friend and they were inseparable. Of course he loved him! So what was wrong with that? What was that bad about it?

And one day it’d been especially worse. They’d encircled him, stood around him, shoved him. And said that Harry loved Louis, shouted it, chanted it, over again until it was the only thing Harry could hear. And they’d made it sound like a bad thing, like something weird and unnatural, even though it was just the other way around. So on that day, Harry had shoved through them and fled to the toilets, tears blurring his vision. He’d curled up on the floor and for the first time in his life he’d felt an ounce of the pain he should grow up with in the end.

The difference was just that Louis found him a few minutes later, and he made Harry let him in with him and then he held Harry and wiped away his tears like a hero and told Harry not to listen to them. It would be ok, Louis had said, and that they were just dumb and didn’t understand what true friendship was. Harry had believed him, he’d believed him that they were the problem, not him.

When the other boys came back, Louis had stood in front of Harry, intimidating because he was two years older. “Leave him be” he’d said. “There’s nothing wrong with him, he isn’t different. You wouldn’t like it to be picked on, too. So put it down.” And they had left because Louis was right: nobody liked to be the one others picked on.

Harry knew better now. He knew that it was indeed him who had the problem. And Louis had been the one to make him believe that, he of all people. And he was also the one picking on Harry, even though he had been the one who had told other people that it was rude and wrong and that they shouldn’t try to hurt others on purpose. He knew better, yet he still did it. He did it on purpose, to hide his intentions and to hide himself. To protect himself from the pain he shoved onto Harry instead.

Harry understood. He would rather protect Louis, too.

Plus, he maybe was getting a new guardian now. Niall had done it once, and now they were kind of getting closer by the minute. So hell, why not have a little faith in that blond bouncy ball of energy? That one move of the Irishman made Harry like him, because he had stood up for a person he hadn’t even known, and from what he had seen, he’d seemed pretty loyal, like he would do it anytime. It made Harry hope that maybe, maybe they could be friends.

 

And he believed that theory a little bit more when he entered the main hall of their school only to find Niall there waiting, waving at him as soon as he spotted him in the mass of unknown bodies.

“Harry, over here!” Niall yelled happily, even jumping up and down a bit and making Harry smirk slightly at his ridiculously cute behaviour.

The smirk grew into a fullblown smile when he got closer. It was a feeling he still had to get used to – smiling. Especially this kind of smiling – usually the kind he was smiling now was kept for Daisy and Phoebe because he loved them and they made him happy and they were just simply adorable. But now he gave it to Niall and it didn’t exactly feel wrong. Well, it didn’t feel wrong at all.

“And how was Ethics?” Niall asked, a smug smirk tugging on the corners of his lips.

“Great” Harry said, playfully cheerful, the sarcasm oozing out of his voice like water out of a sponge. “We did this new thing and –“ Niall looked at Harry completely bewildered, like he seriously considered that Harry was losing his mind, and the curly haired boy cracked up abd let out a low chuckle. “Actually, I don’t even know what we talked about.”

Niall laughed, and his eyes crinkled prettily. “You’re some boy, Hazza. Oh jesus”

Harry flinched ever so slightly at the use of the nickname. Nobody except his family gave him nicknames. But it was only something he had to get used to, not something he was entirely unhappy about. And he liked the sound of that one coming out of Niall’s mouth with that heavy Irish accent. It sounded a bit like buddies and like warmth and like not being alone anymore. His smile decreased to a smirk, but it was still there, in the corners of his lips and the light catching the green of his irises. “Do you wanna go to lunch hall or did you bring lunch with you?” he asked.

Niall shrugged. “I’d prefer lunch hall, to be honest.” He said. “Is that ok for you?”

“Nah, it’s ok. Let’s go”

Harry hadn’t walked these corridors with someone on his side for a long time. Actually, he can’t remember ever going along here with anyone. He’d always been alone in high school. With Niall on his side, he felt better than before. Niall was at least an inch smaller than him, but Harry still seemed like the smaller one because Niall was maybe lanky, but he was also walking with straight back and his chin held high. Meanwhile Harry slouched alongside him, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders scrunched and head bowed.

Not that Niall minded.

“So, you’ve been in this town a while longer?” Niall wondered.

“Yeah, I lived here all my life” Harry said, shrugging ever so slightly.

Niall shot him a surprised look. “Isn’t it like, super-boring here?”

A huff escaped Harry before he could hold it back. “You can’t imagine” Actually, Doncaster wasn’t that boring. At least it hadn’t seemed like it when he’d still lived, not only survived. Back when Louis and he had explored every corner of their town together, it hadn’t been boring. It had been exciting, fascinating, cool. It was probably boring for teenagers now. But Harry neither knew nor minded.

They reached the lunch hall. People were waiting for their food in a queue or sitting at the tables. The air was filled with the smell of food and the chatter of the students. Harry hadn’t been in here a long time because it sucked to sit alone, but he hadn’t remembered it being so loud here.

“You’ve got any special place to sit?” Niall asked now.

Yeah, Harry wanted to respond. That dark staircase to the basement nobody knew about or used anymore. In that place he used to hide in most of his breaks. Not that he would share that with Niall. “Nope” he just said in the end.

“Anyone to sit with?”

“Nope”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah”

“Whoa”

Harry only shrugged in response. They’d joined the queue for the canteen food and now Harry waited patiently for Niall to get his food and for them to find an empty table. They seated themselves and Niall started to eat while chattering about his hometown, Mullingar. He compared it to Doncaster, said how almost everything was so much cooler here. He seemed pretty excited to be in the UK, but it was obvious how he already missed his Irish origins. And about all that, he was so bubbly and loud that Harry couldn’t do anything but smile, really, because it was pretty much amazing.

Niall was talking much too fast all the time, slurring the words and always stumbling over what he was saying because apparently his thoughts were too fast and his mouth couldn’t follow and so he was always forgetting sentence parts and tracks and it was funny to watch.

Just, how quickly could that kid think?

“So, Arts now, huh?” Niall said in the end, between two bites of the hamburger he’d gotten himself. “What are you working on right now?”

“We just finished some movement studies and I guess we’ll start with portraits now” Harry answered willingly. Arts class was the only class he actually liked and paid attention to – he was good at Arts. And they never did anything too hard, he always easily got at least a B+. He thought about that class as actually easy to do, like how could anyone have problems with that?

“Shit I’m so bad at this!” Niall cursed. Harry had already encountered that Niall cursed a lot. “I really just suck at Arts. I can’t even remember why I even took that damn class. I’m so much better at Music.”

“You could ask whether you could swap classes” Harry suggested.

While Niall was munching on his hamburger, the curly haired boy briefly considered eating something, too, because Jay had made him a few deliciously looking sandwiches today. He was still not eating a lot, simply not being used to it anymore. He’d gained around eight pounds already because now that he was with the Tomlinson’s, he’d started eating a lot more healthy amounts. That didn’t change that he felt sick after a good meal simply because he wasn’t used to the feeling of a full stomach anymore.

“Nah, too much work” Niall laughed, his eyes shining. He also laughed a lot, always loud and careless, strong enough to even draw a smile from Harry that showed the tiniest bit of teeth.

“I know, right”

“Are you good at Arts?” Niall asked.

Harry shrugged. “I’m not that bad” He wasn’t one to admit his own strengths. Fizz always told him that he was an amazing artist. She made him work with colours again, not just with the grey shades he could draw from his pencils. And he learned to love them again, even though he was still totally against working with watercolours or acryl or generally a paintbrush. He could do it, but he simply didn’t like it.

“Good – you totally gotta help me, man. I need to learn that shit” Niall declared now. He even did that thing with his hand to underline the totally.

“I’ll see what I can do” Harry promised. It felt good to know that he could be helpful in some way. It made him smile, shy and honest.

Niall looked at the other boy curiously, his head slightly tilted to the side. He was already almost done with his lunch. He ate like a freaking garbage dump. “Aren’t you hungry, dude?”

Harry shook his head, his eyes casting downwards, a blush creeping on his cheeks. There we go.

“So you don’t wanna eat something?”

Harry shook his head again. This was so embarrassing.

“Why?” Niall exclaimed, and he seemed shocked, almost offended. “Food is delicious and amazing and it’s fucking heaven!”

Now he just shrugged. He needed food to survive, so his body won’t shut down. He didn’t like eating. He wasn’t gonna shout it from the rooftops, and he wasn’t even telling it Niall. He couldn’t tell that anybody, because it was embarrassing and weird and it made him look even more like a complete freak. And he didn’t want to scare Niall of this soon.

“You’re not a food lover.” Niall deadpanned. Then, “I’m shocked. I’m honestly shocked. Food is your best friend!” He reminded Harry a little bit of a fluffy little angry squirrel with how he was behaving right now.

It was kind of adorable and definitely amusing.

“I’d say I’m sorry but –“

“I know. You don’t wanna lie to me. Nice you.” Niall was laughing again. Harry didn’t understand that boy, not really. He was too … he was so everything he wasn’t. Loud and bright and bubbly and so so carefree. He literally had everything Harry hadn’t. In a good way. Niall was a much better person than Harry, and even better than Harry had assumed in that first moment.

Lunch went by a lot more quickly than usual. It was nice to spend time with Niall. It felt nice to have someone around to chat with. Niall just talked so much that there couldn’t even be awkward breaks like you had in conversations with people you didn’t know that well. Awkwardness seemed bo be a foreign word and or feeling for the Irish boy. He was simply hilarious in the best way and it was amazing. Like really, really distracting from everything dark in Harry’s mind.

And Arts was good like that, too. Niall wasn’t even that bad, he just needed a better technique, more knowledge how to use the pencils. And Harry enjoyed himself when he showed him because let’s be honest, he could finish that task their teacher gave them in less than an hour, so he could spend some time teaching Niall how to work. Plus, Niall was making a big show out of it, and Harry thought it quite great to hear him exclaim his Irish swears whenever something went wrong.

In short, yes, he very much enjoyed the boy’s company. And when they exchanged numbers at the end of the class and Niall promised to invite Harry over for video games on Friday, Harry felt as good as he hadn’t in a few years with people other than the Tomlinsons. The grin that spread over Harry’s face in that moment was so bright and honest that he showed off his dimples full-force. It wouldn’t completely wear off the whole day.


	16. Chapter 16

People were looking when Harry got into the car with Louis right in front of the school. He’d thought that Louis would drive a block or two down before picking Harry up, but no. He was waiting for the curly haired boy to get out of the school and when he looked into his direction, he motioned him to get inside. Harry was startled and almost tripped over his own feet when he got there, but he got in.

“Look like you hate being here with me” Louis muttered through clenched teeth, showing off his best annoyed bitchface. So they kept up their play for the rest of the world a little longer. Louis looked like he wanted to hit the brakes and shove Harry out, Harry looked like he felt sick and that uncomfortable that he’d like to just melt through the door of the car instead of being trapped in the vehicle.

The tension seeped out of both of them when they were two blocks away. Nobody would see them now. Harry knew how much it meant for Louis and he understood. Mostly, he just didn’t care as long as he didn’t have to take the bus anymore. Also, now Louis was looking at him with soft blue eyes and a private smile tugged on his lips and that was so worth it.

“I’m sorry for what happened today” Louis said. He spoke in a low voice, like he didn’t like to say it, like it was only meant for Harry to hear.

It made him blush a tiny bit. “It’s ok” he murmured. “You weren’t involved”

Louis flinched like Harry had just hit him, and he didn’t quite understand. Did he say something wrong? “Oh, but I am. It only escalated like this because of me” He sighed, and Harry found that sadness in his blue orbs again. It made his heart beat a little harder. He just wished to knew what this was about so he could solve it. Louis didn’t deserve sadness.

“Louis” Harry said. He spoke the other boy’s name carefully, like a prayer, like something holy. He felt like touching him, feeling his warmth, feeling he was ok, alive. He felt like hugging him, holding him, holding onto him. He didn’t. He couldn’t. “It’s fine. Leave it be.”

For a split second, it seemed like Louis wanted to answer to that, say more, argue with Harry just to make him understand the point he didn’t seem to have. But then he closed those pink lips of his again and took a deep breath through his nose. Instead of his own voice he let the Kings Of Leon fill the air between them, turning up the volume of the radio until it was just a tad louder than necessary.

The boys arrived at home in a matter of minutes, and for the first time in the last months the silence between them came close to being comfortable. It’d gotten a lot better with them, Harry mused. He wasn’t afraid of Louis anymore, and they were actually talking to each other. Of course, there were still a lot of unresolved issues, many things that they yet had to talk about. But they were getting closer, and something that came close to friendship was growing between them and had Harry relax around the other boy as long as they were alone.

Louis killed the engine and turned to grab his bag from the back when Harry decided he didn’t have to be afraid to speak up. “That sweatshirt” Harry said, and it sounded rushed and nervous. Louis looked at him with mild surprise in the eyes, like he was listening. “It suits you well” Harry murmured. His cheeks turned pink and he looked down on his hands that were restlessly fiddling in his lap.

Louis was blushing as well, but his smile was bright and honest. “Thank you” he whispered, private, only for Harry. Once again. “I liked it better when it still reeked of you though.” he added after a heartbeat, and it was even less audible than the thank you before. Harry wasn’t sure whether he’d really heard it or if he had imagined it, but he still blushed even more and didn’t dare saying another word.

Louis unlocked the door, Harry just a step behind him, and before the door was shut behind them, they were overrun by two little girls with long blonde hair. Phoebe flung herself into Harry’s arms and the skinny boy had to tumble a step back to stay on his feet from the force of the small body being thrown at him.

“Harry!” Phoebe cried happily. “Mummy said you and Lou will look after us tonight!”

“She said you’ll read us stories!” Daisy cheered. She had climbed up her brother’s torso and clung to Louis’ neck.

Louis met Harry’s hesitant gaze across the two girls. A grin that could compete with the sun was plastered onto his face. Harry liked to see Louis like that, all bright and open. It was a pity he only was like this around his baby twin sisters. “What do you think, Harry?” he asked, adjusting Daisy so he could hold her better.

The thing was, Harry was really comfortable around the two little girls, and so he had gained a little confidence. So the smile that Niall had magically brought onto his face reappeared and he answered without hesitation this time. “I think we’ll only do that if they are good girls today.” He sounded teasing and surprisingly happy when he nuzzled Phoebe’s hair.

“We can be good!” Daisy said.

“We’re always good!” Phoebe agreed.

“Well, we’ll see that” Louis scooped his sister down and Harry also let go of Phoebe. These two had adopted him like a brother. He’d never had younger siblings, always been the little one himself, and now he had three of them (since Lottie was his age). It was a little bit scary, but on the other hand he loved looking after those two crazy birds and Fizz was by far his closest friend right now, so all the problems he’d been afraid of were puffed into smoke.

Except one: they were looking up to him.

And he would surely disappoint them.

“C’mon lads, lunch’s ready!” Jay shouted from the kitchen. Daisy and Phoebe instantly took off, but Louis and Harry were still in full winter clothing. They got rid of thick boots, thick winter coats, scarves, gloves and beanies and then followed the delicious scent of the one true Jay-Tommo-tomatoe sauce into the kitchen.

The other Tomlinsons had already sat down around the table and Jay was just putting the last bowl on it. The scene was oddly familiar, oddly homey too. This, this meant family: sitting together and eating, meanwhile chatting along. The thing was, there was one empty seat left, and that one didn’t belong to an absent father or missing child. It belonged to him. He, Harry Styles, had a family again. A place to be.

He plopped down on his spot, next to Fizz as always, and gave her a warm smile when she handed him the noodles. She smiled back just as brightly as always, and he was so thankful to have found a friend in her again.

“So, tell me, curly, how was your first day?” she asked in her usual cheeriness. She could really compare to Niall. It was amusing how much these two were the same. He hadn’t mentioned it earlier. They weren’t similar with their looks, but with the way they behaved, talked, smiled. The way they treated him.

Harry shrugged, but he didn’t do it to avoid an answer. These times were long gone on this table. “Ok I guess. I met that boy.”

“Oh, he met a boy!” Lottie instantly joked, her eyebrows wriggling suggestively. She grinned widely at him, and he knew she was just kidding. There was still a blush creeping on his cheeks and he bowed his head.

“It’s not like that”

Jay smiled motherly and Fizz nudged him playfully with her elbow. “Who is it, then?” she asked.

“A new boy in town” Harry said. “He’s from Ireland –“

“That Niall boy?” Lottie interrupted the boy. “He’s pretty awkward. Loud and –“

“Funny” Harry smiled sheepishly. “I like him. Oh, and Jay, if it’s ok for you, I’d like to meet up with him on Friday.” He announced, then starting to eat his noodles. The thing was he even felt a little bit hungry today. He hadn’t felt hunger in a long time.

Harry wasn’t prepared for the bright, happy smile that Mama Tomlinson gave him at that. “Oh, of course you can!” she said, and Harry honestly didn’t know why she was so happy about that. “I’m glad to hear you’re bonding with someone. Will he come over or will you go with him?”

“We haven’t really talked about it, but Niall suggested we could go to his place after school and I’d go home after dinner.” Harry said.

“That’s fine with me” Jay nodded. She looked at Harry for a while longer, and he blushed and lowered his gaze again.

He still smiled, muttered out a “Thank you”. He wasn’t used to getting what he wanted.

“Mummy we started on a new arts project today!” Daisy announced then, and Harry was glad the attention shifted away from him.

To be honest, times like this he couldn’t help but enjoy. For everyone else, this was just a normal thing you did all day: sitting together with the whole family, happily chatting along about what happened in school and what their plans are. They didn’t appreciate it in the way Harry did, and they weren’t able to – only people who weren’t used to have this could appreciate something like this.

And Harry did, god, how he did. He felt so comfortable just sitting there and listening to their friendly banter, their teasing and their telling. It felt like family, belonging, safety. Home. That was why he had opened to this family in the first place – they had invited him in with open arms, treated him like one of them from the very first moment. When they were around each other, they were trusting, respectful and comfortable. Nobody ignored each other. Nobody tried to hurt each other.

It was so peaceful, and so utterly perfect.

The meal was almost over when Jay brought up what the twins had said earlier. “I have to work the night shift today. Louis, Harry, it’s your turn to watch the girls.” She said.

“Not all the girls!” Lottie interrupted.

Her mother chuckled fondly. “Yeah, only the twins. You know what I mean. Is that ok with you?” she asked. She had seen her boys getting closer in the past few weeks, but she didn’t know whether the school had changed something. She was the only one to mention that Louis looked like he swallowed a lemon since Harry had mentioned Niall.

“Of course” Louis smiled, “There’s nothing on tonight.”

Harry nodded, too. “We’ll do it.”

The twins beamed, “Will you play Barbie with us?”

Harry and Louis shared a look, and Louis smiled, “No, but if you like we can chain up Harry so you can do his hair.”

“Oh, you don’t dare it!” Harry laughed.

“Oh, but I do!” Louis teased back.

“Are you ok with that, Harry?” Phoebe asked.

“We wanna do your hair!” Daisy said.

Harry sighed. He just couldn’t say no to those adorable little girls. “Louis” he said slowly, a tad too serious.

“Yeah?” He had one eyebrow raised, and both boys knew they were just fooling around just from looking at each other. Harry was still surprised how little Louis had changed and how much he could still read him.

“You will pay. And it will be horrible.” Harry said, waggling his finger in Louis’ face.

The boys stared just a second longer, and it was dead silent in the kitchen.

Then they all burst out laughing.

That was what family was about, too.


	17. Chapter 17

In the end, Harry did let the twins make his hair. He sat cross-legged on the floor in the room of the two girls while Phoebe and Daisy ushered around him eagerly. They brushed his hair with small pink hairbrushes and bound them into several small pigtails and braids with their pink and rosy Barbie bands.

It was awful, but the thing was that Harry would do everything to please these little girls. It was just amazing to see them laugh and smile and he loved to know that he was the one to make them smile in that moment, not anybody else. They were one of the biggest reasons why he was becoming better in the first place – they just let him see life in an a little better light again.

And what did Louis while his baby sisters were occupied with Harry?

Well, Louis just sat there on Phoebe’s bed, leaning against the wall, long legs dangling off the mattress, and watched with a bemused expression. He was relaxed and had a soft smile playing on his features. Harry hadn’t seen him like that in a long, long time but that didn’t mean it had gotten any less adorable.

“Louis!” Harry whined in the heat of the moment. When they were around Daisy and Phoebe, they always got along the best. “Help me!”

Louis laughed. “Why? You look great!” he teased the younger boy.

Harry glared at him, but he wasn’t exactly angry. It was just banter. “Oh, I hate you!” he exclaimed. He only realized what he’d just said when the words were already out and not to be taken back. He froze to the spot, all the softened muscles in his body going rigid, and stared at Louis with a horrified expression.

“No you don’t” Louis gave back easily, like he didn’t mention that Harry was quite upset about all that. He still grinned goofily, one eyebrow cocked.

“No” Harry said softly. “I don’t.” He was surprised to find that he really didn’t. He didn’t hate Louis. There’d been a time where he wished he would. Louis had seemed to hate him, too, and he’d hurt him so bad, over and over again. So why couldn’t Harry simply hate him? He didn’t know why, still hadn’t found out, but it was impossible for him to hate Louis, no matter what happened between them.

The thoughtless banter of them was gone, and now they looked at each other in a completely different way. There was a quiet seriousness in the air when their eyes met, hesitant and kind of like they were looking at each other for the first time. The twins were forgotten and in that moment the world closed in around them and it were just Harry and Louis.

It was so much like before that it made Harry’s heart clench, but it relaxed when Louis smiled lightly at the realization what Harry’s words meant. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“Lou-bear” Daisy spoke up in that moment, and they snapped out of it too suddenly. “Can we do your hair, too?” She flung herself on her brother’s lap, and the magic that Louis and Harry had shared was gone as quickly as it had developed.

Louis laughed at her, closing his arms around her. “I’d totally agree, but I know certain girls that need to head to bed now because it’s already late.” He said and pressed his fingers into the girl’s side until she shrieked and squirmed away from him.

“But not us!” Phoebe shouted.

“Oh, but especially you” Harry said with a smile.

“I don’t want to!” Phoebe crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted. “You can stay awake longer, too!”

“Yeah, that’s totally super-unfair!” Daisy complained, joining her sister in the middle of the room.

“We’re older” Harry explained calmly. “When you’re as old as us, you can stay awake longer, too.” He got up and stretched his body – he’d totally sat there too long.

“But we –“

“Didn’t you promise to be good girls so Harry will read you a bedtime story?” Louis reminded them with a smirk.

The twins looked at each other in shock, and then nodded eagerly, shooting off to get their pyjamas from their beds. “We’re already changing!”

Harry chuckled. Louis was just amazing with his sisters.

“Hey Lou?” Phoebe asked innocently while she was changing. “Will you sing us a lullaby, too?”

Louis smiled at her. “Of course.” Then he focused his attention on Harry. The smile didn’t change one tad, and Harry couldn’t place the light in Louis’ eyes. “C’mon, let me get that stuff out of your hair.” He said with a small laugh.

“I can do that” Harry mumbled shyly, a blush spreading on his cheeks.

“Just let me, ok?” Louis asked, and of course Harry couldn’t say no to him. So he sat down on his side while the girls took off to the bathroom to brush their teeth and their hair and get ready for bed. It was still a foreign feeling to be alone with Louis, but it felt somehow right now, too. Harry was getting more comfortable around him, he realized.

Louis gently started plucking out the pink bands from Harry’s curls. “You’re really good with them.” He said, and it sounded a lot like a praise, a compliment.

Harry blushed further. “I always wanted smaller siblings” Harry admitted quietly. It was weird to have Louis that close to him, their bodies brushing, Louis’ fingers in his hair. The thing was, it wasn’t a bad weird. It was like his bones remembered, told his body to relax because it was just Louis and Harry didn’t need to be afraid. He relaxed easily under Louis’ fingers carding through all the strands of Harry’s hair that he’d freed from the girls’ influence.

“Well, now you’ve got some.” Louis pointed out, and he smiled while he did so. “They adore you. I should be jealous that they like you so much, but …” He pulled out the last braid and let his fingers run through Harry’s curls one last time before he slumped beside him, arms resting in his lap. “I guess I’m just glad to see how well you still fit into my family.”

He smiled shyly, looking up at Harry through his long lashes, his cheeks coated in a faint pink blush, and Harry didn’t know what did it, the look on his face, the comfy feeling between them or the ‘still’ that had somehow sneaked into his sentence, but everything in his body screamed out _his Louis_ at that. He was back.

Harry wasn’t sure whether he wanted to cry or laugh at that, so he just blushed even more. He blushed a lot around Louis. “Thank you” he murmured silently, offering a small private smile of his own.

Louis gently nudged Harry’s shoulder with his own. “I mean it. I’m glad you’re here.”

They fell into silence afterwards and for once it was completely comfortable. Harry developed that old feeling of security around Louis, all of a sudden. It amazed him how much of the boy he once knew still was in there. It would be hard to fall back into their old scheme, if not impossible, Harry knew that. But he was also ready to give it a try. Everybody deserved a second chance, and Louis especially did. Harry wasn’t sure whether it was possible, but hell, he would give everything to be able to trust Louis again.

It was dangerous, but Harry was ready to take the risk.

“We’re finished!” Daisy dashed into the room again, Phoebe on her heels.

“Good” Louis got up from the bed and Harry followed straight, going over to the bookshelf to grab their copy of Grimm’s fairy tales. Louis tucked the girls in carefully while Harry sat down on the floor again, picking out one story to read them.

He decided to read them the story of Snowwhite. He knew it was one of their favourites, and he loved it, too. Well, he generally had a thing for tales, but he wouldn’t tell that anyone. He started reading when they were all settled, ready to fall asleep from the lull of his voice.

Harry had always been talented when it came to reading. He concentrated and carefully made sure to get all the different voices and intonations of the different paragraphs right. The girls laid on their sides, watching Harry, their lids dropping more and more, and Louis stood by the door, eyes glued to Harry as well. All three of them listened intently.

“Will you read us another one?” Phoebe asked after Harry’s _And they lived happily ever after_. She already sounded half asleep.

Harry closed the thick book and smiled lightly at her. “Louis wanted to sing you a lullaby, remember?” he said quietly.

“Yeah” she sighed sleepily, cuddling into her pillows more. “That’s good, too.”

Louis looked at Harry, “Yeah, right.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Ok.” He started singing after a moment of silence.

 

_Hush now my baby,_

_be still love don't cry._

_Sleep like you’re rocked by the stream._

 

Harry was awestruck. He neither recognized the song nor the voice singing it. Louis had always been a good singer. But dam, puberty had done him good. His voice was a little high for a boy, but it didn’t matter because he hit the notes clear as glass, even though he sung quietly and seemingly effortlessly.

 

_Sleep and remember my lullaby,_

_and I'll be with you when you dream._

_Drift on a river that flows through my arms._

_Drift as I'm singing to you._

_I see you smiling so peaceful and calm,_

_and holding you I'm smiling too._

 

Harry watched Louis going through the room in silent careful steps, caressing both girls’ blonde hair and pressing a kiss to their foreheads. Harry got up when Louis looked at him with a ghost of a smile on his lips, and put the book away to where he got it from.

 

_Here in my arms, safe from all harm._

_Holding you, I'm Smiling too._

_Hush now my baby still love don't cry_

_sleep like you're rocked by the stream._

 

He joined Louis at the door, seeing the eyes of Phoebe sliding shut, a smile on the girl’s face. Daisy was already breathing deeply and slowly, lulled into sleep. Louis shut off the light, and slowly closed the door, making sure it didn’t make a sound.

 

_Sleep and remember this river lullaby,_

_and I'll be with you when you dream._

 

The door closed with the last note, and in the silence Harry could still Louis singing. It had been angelic. For a second, the boys were just silently looking at each other, then Harry found enough control of his body to say, “Louis, that was …” He couldn’t find the right word to describe it.

“Awful?” Louis suggested weakly.

“I would go with amazing.” Harry admitted.

Louis actually blushed at that. Not just a little bit, but in the way Harry usually did. “Not.”

Harry had a ton of stuff he could say to Louis now. He could tell him how talented he thought he was. He could tell him that this was also another chance to get a full ride for college; he didn’t need Stan and his stupid football, because Louis’ singing was just as good as his talent with a football. He could praise him like he thought Louis deserved it, but he didn’t.

He didn’t because he was still Harry and it was still easier to stay wordless when it came to feelings and all that complicating stuff. So he just shook his head, and smiled lightly. “Goodnight, Louis” he murmured, ducking away to his room. He didn’t see how Louis stared after him with wonder.

“Goodnight Harry.”


	18. Chapter 18

To say that Louis and Harry were best friends now would be an absolute hyperbole. But they were getting closer to each other again. Every morning Harry would get up early to work his hours in the back of the bakery he’d been working at for a couple of years now, then he went home, showered, changed into clothes suitable for school, and then Louis and he would go to school in the older boys blue Mini. Conversation and silence came easily between them as long as they were alone or with the other Tomlinsons. It felt nice and warm and familiar, and Harry started enjoying their times alone, no longer afraid of the other boy.

In school, Harry spent every free minute with Niall. These two could definitely be considered best mates. Niall told Harry about his brother, how he was scared now because he’d joined the army and he left for Syria the other month. And Harry told Niall about his family, why he lived with the Tomlinsons in the first place. Niall was quiet and understanding at times like this, and then did his best to cheer Harry up – and he let that happen, because it was amazing to have a friend like that again, someone whom he could trust.

On Friday, they left school together. Niall only lived a few blocks away from school and always came walking, so they didn’t have to catch a bus or something. They were crossing the car park side by side, shoulders brushing; Niall didn’t know personal space, or at least he didn’t care about it, so they were close and touching quite a lot. Not that Harry cared too much when it came to Niall.

“That Tomlinson boy is staring at us” Niall said, nodding in the direction of the Mini where Louis was hovering, only a few meters over.

Harry looked up at Louis and then, when he was sure that Louis would catch it, sent him a private little smile, one that was only ever directed at him. He didn’t dare doing more, but obviously that was enough because the frown on Louis face already softened when he looked away quickly. “Yeah I know” he said, shrugging. “I don’t think he’s too happy to see that we’re spending time with each other.”

Niall giggled, knocking their shoulders together. “He’s just jealous of our profound bond”

Harry laughed. “Don’t compare us with Castiel and Dean – we could never be that gay!” he teased right back. It was so easy with Niall.

At that, the Irish boy barked his usual loud laugh. It was nice to know that Harry was the reason of that sound. “You’re right. Still, you’d make an amazing Castiel, man.”

“You mean I’m that angelic?” Harry joked, batting his eyelashes at Niall with a laugh.

“Nah, more like silent and antisocial!”

The thing was that when Niall said something like that, he didn’t mind. Harry knew he was only kidding, and Niall knew the boundaries between teasing and hurting all too well. They were comfortable with their banter and with each other and Niall’s effect on Harry was huge. He eased him up, made him smile and laugh and gave him a general better perspective on life. It was awesome.

“Oh thank you” Harry said sarcastically.

“You’re very welcome” Niall poked Harry’s arm with his elbow, eyes glistening. “So, pizza for lunch we said, right? Mum’s already working, so we gotta do it all alone.”

“Sounds fine” Harry shrugged. He didn’t care as long as they were spending time together, which sounded a lot like Harry was nursing a huge crush on Niall – which he wasn’t, really.

“Pizza doesn’t just sound fine!” Niall complained, throwing his arms up and glaring at Harry – not really angry, just how Niall was. “Pizza sounds fantastic, heavenly, awesome! Not fine!”

“If you say so” Harry said, chuckling at Niall’s exasperated expression – his passion for food was just ridiculous. “Ok – pizza sounds amazing” he said in the end, but just because he knew that Niall wouldn’t stop bugging.

Niall patted Harry’s back. “Well done, man. I totally agree. And then I’ll beat your bony ass on Fifa!”

“You won’t!” Harry told the blond boy, even though he knew that there was no other chance for him but to lose.

“So, and why shouldn’t I?” Niall gave back.

“Because I’m totally better than you!” Harry said, making both of them laugh.

They reached the apartment building where Niall lived with his mum. It was quite familiar to Harry – he’d lived in one that wasn’t that different from the one they were entering now for the most part of the past four years. Many of the cheaper flats in London were found in buildings that didn’t have many differences – thanks to the urbanization and industrialization there was a lot of space needed and quick, Harry had actually been kind of interested when they had talked about it in his History of the 20th century class.

“Tell that yourself if it makes you feel better” Niall laughed.

They had to climb up four stories of stairs, and it was just as awful as Harry had it in his mind. He was breathing harshly when they arrived Niall’s flat and so did Niall. “I’m not yet used to it. It’s nothing special, I have to warn you” The Irish boy said, and he blushed a little bit at that, fumbling with the keys.

“It’s ok” Harry said, and only hesitated a little bit before he put his hand on Niall’s shoulder. “I used to live in a flat like this, too.”

“Yeah right” Niall let them both in. The door opened to a small living room with an open kitchen. It was cozy, homey, and mostly lit from the big window and the glass door leading to a small balcony, in warm colors of beige and brown – Harry liked it right away.

“Want a cuppa?” Niall asked. “I’ll just put the kettle on, and then I’ll show you around.” Harry nodded, setting his bag carefully down where Niall had put his. They quickly got rid of their coats and scarves and shoes, and then Niall was going into the kitchen and Harry followed him slowly.

“It’s really nice” Harry said, just because he didn’t know what else to do.

Niall smiled at him. “Thank you. It’s really small, but enough for mum and me”

Harry only nodded. He knew what it was like, living in a small flat with only one person because there used to be four of you and now it’s just two and every space that would be bigger felt too big because there would be so much empty space and that would just not feel right. He understood why Niall and his mum were living here, not somewhere else.

After a second of silence that refused to become awkward, Niall cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Let’s – come on, I’ll show you my room”

Niall’s room was like Harry’s room in the old flat, but completely different. Niall’s room was just as small as Harry’s old, but the walls were white with green flecks and patterns, and the floor was golden hardwood and everywhere were pictures and personal stuff and it was just glowing because there was life in this room. It was used, it was loved. And Niall obviously spent a lot of time in there.

“It’s really so much cooler than my room” Harry said, eyes raking over the pictures of different people and places that were pinned to the wall above Niall’s desk.

“Thank you” Niall said. “Mum and I painted the walls all on our own. It was so much fun, really.” He smiled happily, if not a little bit shy. Harry looked at him and couldn’t help but smile in return. Niall was adorable, kind of. Like a puppy.

“I’m not sure I wanna see the clothes you’ve been wearing then” Harry mocked him.

Niall laughed. “We already burnt them”

“I’m glad” Harry said and Niall shoved him playfully.

“Idiot”

“Jerk” Harry had the strange urge to stick his tongue out, and he knew that with Niall, it didn’t matter all too much how he was behaving. So he did.

Niall only laughed more. “C’mon, time for pizza.”

So they ate pizza and drank tea and Niall laughed so hard because “this combination can only be British”. It was hilarious. They were talking all the while, about school, people, everything that came to their mind. Harry was pretty sure that the muscles in his belly would be all sore tomorrow because he laughed so much at Niall’s silly jokes and funny stories.

Eventually, they shifted from the dining table to the couch in the living room and started playing with the play station that was connected to the TV there. Harry was surprisingly not that horrible as he would’ve thought. He had never really played before, but he quickly got the hang of it and after a few games he even managed to not let Niall win to 0, he at least scored one goal each game.

Time was forgotten while they were playing, sitting too close on the couch, knees and thighs brushing, arms somewhat entangled when they tried to distract the other one from the game. At one point, Harry pinned Niall down to the cushions just so he could score that damn goal. It ended up in a tickle fight and they had to pause the game because they now were both distracted from it.

Harry forgot about everything except Niall and Fifa and the crisps on the coffee table. It was awesome and funny and he really enjoyed himself. He ate too much and laughed too much and he couldn’t keep that smile off his face. Niall seemed to mention, because sometimes his eyes would linger a little on Harry and his smile would soften. At one point, he ruffled Harry’s curls, half thrown over the other boy.

“You’re really cool, do you know that?” Niall admitted.

“As if, dude” Harry gave back. “You just don’t know anyone else”

“Whatever” Niall gave his mate’s curls one last tug. “I’m just saying I’m glad I helped you the other day.”

Harry smiled, bumping into Niall’s side when they were looking back on the screen, starting up a new match. “Yeah me, too”

And they continued playing like it was totally normal to say sappy shit like that to his best friends. Harry couldn’t care less. He enjoyed every minute here, and if it was for him, he didn’t have to go.

But too soon, it was eight o’clock and doorbell rang.

“You didn’t tell me someone would come pick you up?” Niall said when he heaved off the couch to answer the door.

“I didn’t know until this morning as well” Harry answered, slipping into his worn out converse. He could still remember Louis in the car this morning, asking him how he would be coming home tonight. Walking, had Harry had answered. Louis had thought that it was far too long and had offered to come pick him up.

When Louis jumped up the stairs now, Niall looked at him blankly – he was still angry at him for what happened on Monday, contrary to Harry. “What’re you doing here?”

“Mum sent me to pick up Harry” Louis lied smoothly.

Harry slipped into his coat and shouldered his bag. “Thanks for everything Nialler. It was amazing”

Niall grinned brightly at his best friend. “My pleasure. We’ll text, yeah?”

And before Harry could slip out of the flat, he pulled him into a tight hug. It felt foreign, to be held like this from anyone. Harry was frozen for a second before he realized that this was Niall and he meant no harm and it was actually warm and felt amazing. He pressed the smaller lad close for a second before slowly letting go.

“We will” Harry promised with a smile, stepping out of Niall’s personal space.

“Bye Hazza”

“See ya”

The door clicked closed and Louis and Harry went to leave. Both had their hands shoved into their pockets kind of awkwardly and Louis kept shooting Harry strange glances. Only when both were in the car, he dared speaking up.

“So, what was that?” Louis wanted to know.

Harry wasn’t sure how he should take it – was Louis teasing him or was he serious? For a second, he was silent. Then he opted for shrugging and mumbling out a, “Nothing. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah right” Louis grumbled.

The silence between them hadn’t felt this awkward in a while and Harry wondered what was up with the other boy now. Something was strange in the way Louis was behaving, and Harry couldn’t pinpoint it.

So he stayed wordless until Louis spoke up again, softly again, with the hint of a smile in his voice and on his lips. “So, did you have fun?”

This seemed to break the ice, and Harry broke into a grin and told him the following five minutes about how much fun it was to play Fifa with Niall.

“We should do that, too, if you like” Louis suggested when he pulled into the driveway of their home.

Harry smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”


	19. Chapter 19

Harry still loved Louis, kind of. He’d always done, even though for a while, it had been just the idea of the boy who’d been his best friend for the bigger part of his life. And now, now he could love him again for what he knew. Louis was giving him more reasons to start trusting him again. Probably it was insane, since the boy had broken his heart more times than he could count. But Louis was still somehow the same, and Harry still had him in his heart, although it felt different this time – he couldn’t really name it. It was just there.

With Niall though, everything was different. With Niall, Harry knew where he was standing: they were best friends, and they were closer than they had ever been with everyone. They were having loads of fun, and Harry hadn’t laughed as much as he did with Niall all throughout the past four years. They started hanging out almost every afternoon, either at Niall’s or at the Tomlinson’s or generally exploring Doncaster together.

Weeks that had felt like years before were rushing by like nothing now, and Harry finally felt normal again. He had a family, he had a best friend, and it felt amazing.

Another thing was that he was as well filled with warmth again – the usual feeling when you were having a crush on someone. At first, it had startled him that he was really kind of falling for Niall. It wasn’t because Niall was a boy; Harry had never doubted for a second that he was gay. But it was surprising because it was Niall and Niall was already his best friend. But Harry also totally knew why.

Like, Niall was always laughing, and sometimes Harry couldn’t help but stare. His whole face lit up, his eyes sparkling, his teeth blinking, his freckles dancing. It was gorgeous. Also, he was just so positive about everything. Whatever Niall did, he did it with joy, and with all his heart. It was wonderful to see, and it was exhilarating. The blond was good influence on Harry. The biggest thing though was that Niall was utterly affectionate. He ignored any kind of personal space, and Harry found him more often inside then not. They were always touching somehow, and it was warm and strengthening and amazing.

So of course, of course Harry was growing the hugest crush on his best friend, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether it was mutual – many things in Niall’s behavior told him that yes, it was. It totally was. And sometimes he wasn’t quite sure whether he should believe it, mostly because he didn’t want to risk anything: at least he had Niall as his best friend, and that was enough, that was more than enough, and he didn’t want to lose him again just because sometimes Harry just had the urge to kiss the other boy breathless.

All of that didn’t really matter that much. It’s just a crush, and it may be huge and probably, maybe returned, but it’s still just a crush. It was that kind of thing that made it easier to get up in the morning and harder to fall asleep at night. And that “thing” was actually just Niall – to Harry he was, with or without his crush, the reason he got up in the morning and the reason he had a smile in his eyes again.

So of course, as life continued and didn’t just stop on the time people enjoyed living, it didn’t just stay as it was. The snow melted to gross mud on the streets and the meadows, and now it was just freezing cold when February – and with that Harry’s birthday rolled around.

Harry didn’t like his birthday. To him, it should be a day just as any other. He didn’t like the attention – no matter how amazing he felt when Niall was giving him attention, he didn’t like to be the center of celebration or conversation or generally the family. He didn’t like that he was to be celebrated; he wasn’t worth it. He hadn’t done anything to be worth the attention of a birthday celebration.

That was what his mum had told him. She had forgotten about his birthday in her grief. Harry could still remember, the first year after his dad and sister had died, he’d come out of his room with a smile on his face – “Mum, do you know which day is today?”, he’d asked. She’d just mumbled something along “The day we get money again”. She’d forgotten about him. She’d taught him that a birthday was nothing important to remember, really.

So that was why Harry wasn’t exactly excited when Niall tackled him in a hug the morning of February 1st, as soon as he came into sight, shouting “HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAZZA!!” all over the place.

Still, a startled laugh escaped his throat. It was Niall, after all. “Easy there, tiger” Harry muttered, and patted Niall’s back awkwardly, not wanting to hug him back because of that.

“It’s your birthday today - why are you not grinning, why are you not happy? SMILE, Harry!” Niall said, poking Harry’s cheeks where he knew the dimples would be showing if he was to smile. Harry actually managed a small grin at that. “Much better” Niall said, grinning himself. “And now tell me – why did I have to get to know about your birthday from dear Mrs. Tomlinson calling me to invite me to your birthday?”

Harry shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Why should I tell you?” he wondered. He meant it – who was here to brag with his birthday? Even when it was Niall: nobody needed to know about the day Harry was born. It was not worth it.

“Because your birthday should be the most fucking amazing day in your year?” Niall suggested. “God, Harry, don’t tell me you don’t like your birthday either. Which celebration do you even like?!”

Harry shrugged. He liked Niall. He liked Louis’ singing voice. He liked the silence of an empty house, only filled by the scratch of pencil on paper. But he didn’t like celebrations. Or holidays. Anything that was related to family and reminded him of his mum.

Niall, now, had to see his mistake, and Harry could tell by the way his grin faltered that he did. “I – I’m sorry. I guess that’s ok, not liking such things.”

Harry nudged his shoulder against Niall’s. He didn’t like it when Niall stopped smiling because of him. “It’s alright. Maybe I’ll start liking it again.” He said, just because he could. He could pick up liking celebrating his birthday again.

Like, this morning, it had shown him that yes, it could be worth it. He’d been woken up by the twins crawling into bed with him, one on each of his sides, singing Happy Birthday into his ear softly. He’d gotten up and went downstairs, and there had been his family waiting for him, each of them with a present for him. Fizz had gotten him a collection of all John Green books because she knew he adored the author but never quite read anything of him, in a limited sampler edition. Lottie had gotten him a similar collection with classical Shakespearean plays, and she gave them to him with a blush and a “I mentioned you liked them when we talked about it in class”, and he just had to hug her for thanks. The twins had gotten him another sketchbook – because his old one was already filled with all kinds of drafts and drawings. And Jay had gotten Harry a bunch of faded band shirts and hoodies – they looked like they had already been worn, but they were from his favorite bands and they fit and he loved them straight away. Louis hadn’t gotten him anything yet, but he was wearing Harry’s sweatshirt and that kind of shy smile that showed secrets away without revealing them.

This had been nice, and Harry hadn’t felt too out of place – even though some fine red lines on his upper arm from the night before told him he’d thought otherwise. And now he was in school, and Niall was as always walking just a tad too close to him, their shoulders brushing, and it was a little bit awkward, but Harry found that no, maybe it wasn’t too bad after all. Maybe he could stand a day like this, once a year.

“I believe you will” Niall said. “I got an awesome present for you, bet you’ll like it. I’ll give it to you later, when I’m coming over, alright?” There he was again, bright and cheery as always. Harry loved to see him like that, always covering up so quickly. He wished to kiss him again, in that moment. Not that he ever would, but it seemed like a good idea when his stomach was flip-flopping like this.

“Sounds fantastic” Harry replied with a smile of his own. The following content silence was only interrupted by the bell ringing to rush them to their classes.

 

Named classes were going by easily and quickly, just as they seemed to be more and more now since Harry wasn’t spending the breaks alone anymore. He couldn’t imagine – just one month ago, he’d been alone except for Fizz. And only three months ago, there had been nobody in his world and he had been in such a dark place that he was, looking back on it now, not even really alive anymore, just like a body who was still breathing.

So much had changed in such a short time.

But yeah, whatever – school was over quickly, and before Harry even knew, he was saying goodbye to Niall and slipping into Louis’ car. The other boy was already inside, and as always in the first forty-five seconds of their car drive didn’t pay Harry a second glance. As soon as they were out of sight from school though, Louis gave the younger boy one of his rare shy smiles.

“I didn’t really talked to you this morning” Louis stated, giving Harry another glance.

Harry shrugged. “You were pretty silent today, yeah.”

“I didn’t forget, just so you know. I maybe – I have a surprise for you at home.” The brown-haired boy admitted, sheepishly fiddling with the steering wheel.

Harry couldn’t help but smile. “That’s so nice of you. Thank you.”

“You don’t even know what it is yet” Louis pointed out, his lips curling into an easy smile.

“Yeah ok, but it’s a gift and it’s from you - so why shouldn’t I like it?” Harry gave back, falling into that slightly more confident self he was mostly only around Niall – not even Fizz, because his friendship to Fizz was just not like that.

Louis shrugged, awkwardly. “Just because?” he suggested.

Harry chuckled, shook his head slightly. “Don’t worry about it”

For a second, they were silent. There were many silent seconds in their conversation, even after all that time they had spent together recently. Then, after a while, Louis was looking at Harry with a fond, but still unreadable expression.

“You’re really something different, Harry” he said, lowly.

Harry didn’t know what he should say, but he wasn’t to stay wordless, not anymore. He was getting better at talking, communicating, all that stuff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but thank you”

Louis shot Harry a tiny smile – one of those who seemed the most real to Harry. “It’s nothing.” He said, shrugging it away, but the smile stayed. Harry couldn’t help but watch – Louis was still a bit of a puzzle to him; he still had to figure him out, how he worked, what was real, what was fake. He couldn’t tell yet, not really. There was always something new to learn, something to surprise him. He was so much more complex than Harry had thought Louis to be, and it was irritating, but not in a bad way.

This time, Harry said nothing in response, so they sat in silence until they reached the house. “Come, I wanna show you something” Louis said, and he looked stupidly happy at that, like he was proud of what he wanted to show Harry.

Of course that caught Harry’s attention. So of course he let Louis drag him into the house, ignore the happy sounds from the kitchen where the rest of the Tomlinsons were already waiting on them, and upstairs, until he was at Harry’s room. Harry was confused. The last time he checked, there was nothing different in Harry’s room. There were clothes strewn over chairs, papers piling on the desk, books filling the cupboard, his bed unmade. Behind that door was, for all he knew, only his room – so what did Louis want to show him?

“Close your eyes” Louis demanded, and Harry did as he was told. He heard his door opening, and then a warm hand led him into the middle of the room – he knew that he was right in the middle because he knew that room, he’d been living in it for about three months now, and that was enough time to map every distance inside out.

“Now you can open them” Louis said gently, close to Harry’s ear, and as Harry did, his breath was stuck in his throat. This room was still his room. Over his bed were still the fairy lights and the pictures on the wall, there was still that nest of pillows on his window sill. There was still the mess he’d left this morning.

Except that on the wall over his desk was a huge map of the world, in bright colors, with these small comics they used on children’s maps. He recognized the map, and also the tacks pinned into different spaces all over the map. A grin split his face, and he couldn’t stop himself from beaming like an idiot when he read the words that were written all over with a thick black marker, in that familiar scrawl he’d recognize everywhere.

_One day, we’ll travel the world together._

Harry still knew, still remembered. They’d spent weeks, months, whole summers planning, talking, dreaming. When they were both grown up, they’d said, when they had their A levels and before they left for college, they would spend one year just travelling around. They wanted to see the world, they wanted to explore the unknown. And Louis, Louis still remembered.

Harry flung himself around his neck, hugging the other boy tightly. He’s never done anything this intimate, this forward with Louis. They were barely touching at all, and even talking was a risky issue. But now everything was forgotten because Louis remembered, he still remembered, and it was amazing.

Louis hugged him back just as tightly, and he laughed softly into Harry’s ear. “Happy birthday Harry”


	20. Chapter 20

Niall came to visit about an hour later, giving Harry enough time to have dinner with the Tomlinsons. He wore the same clothes, the same smile – and carried a huge packet in his arms. Harry was surprised to see his best friend like this; he’d been over a few times, but apparently the blond had never been as comfortable there as he was in his own flat. Harry thought it was because of Louis; the two most important boys in his life had a strained relationship, both disliking each other openly. It was a pity. But for today, it seemed, Niall forgot that this was Louis’ world, not his.

Maybe it was because Louis was nowhere to be seen: they had an act to keep up, and that act was that Louis didn’t like Harry and the other way around. Harry didn’t like it, he didn’t like to keep that act up in front of Niall – he was his best friend, after all. But he knew that it was too dangerous, they had to choose the people who knew carefully and telling Niall wasn’t probably the best idea.

Not that Harry cared too much the moment Niall closed his arms around him just as tightly as before. He simply melted into Niall’s chest, closed his eyes for a second. He didn’t want to think about anything right now, he just wanted to enjoy the time with his best friend – it was his birthday after all.

“Hey there birthday boy!” Niall grinned brightly. “I brought you something!” He shoved the packet in Harry’s arms. It was light, surprisingly so, and Harry eyed it suspiciously.

“Did you get me a box?”

“Yep, I know you wanted to have one for quite a while!” Niall bantered, grinning brightly. “No, of course I didn’t. You need to open it, c’mon, I wanna see your face!”

Harry laughed. “Alright, alright! Let’s go upstairs, won’t we?” The family was mostly downstairs, watching some sappy series on TV that he already had more than enough of. Jay was sat in the middle of the big sofa, the twins on her sides, Lottie and Fizz sharing the loveseat on the right. Harry smiled at them when he snuck a look on his way to the stairs – this was what family meant.

“Hi Mrs. T!” Niall greeted cheerily, stopping in the door for a second while Harry was waiting for him on the middle of the staircase.

“Hello Niall!” Jay answered. “Great to have you over. Wanna come and join us?” Harry didn’t know why there was a slightly bitter feeling in his guts at that. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share these family moments with Niall – he was sure they would perfectly fit on the sofa as well, or maybe on the floor in front of it, and they wouldn’t destroy the picture. But somehow he didn’t feel like sharing Niall’s attention now.

“Nah, Hazza and me are going upstairs ..” Niall replied, and Harry let out a relieved breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Thanks though.”

“If you need anything, just call me, yeah?” Jay offered, and Niall said thanks again before following Harry upstairs. Harry didn’t need to lead him anymore, Niall already knew where Harry’s room was – he’d been over often enough. Still, Niall only slipped past him to open the door for Harry who was still holding the huge gift packet.

“Whoa that one’s new” Niall sauntered over to the desk, inspecting the newest addition to the pictures on Harry’s wall.

“Yeah” Harry answered while he kicked the door shut behind him. “Got it for my birthday” There was still a small smile he couldn’t contain when he was looking at the poster. This was another thing of Louis and him that he’d gotten back, and the warmth spreading through him when he looked at it felt amazing.

They sat down on Harry’s bed, facing each other, knees brushing, the present in Harry’s lap. And of course Niall was close to Harry, and of course Harry had the urge to inch even closer to him. This was what they were – best friends, comfortable with each other, always close to the other as if needing him close to survive. That was present enough to Harry: a true friend, someone he could rely on without doubt. Niall was what he had needed. Niall was simply and truly amazing.

“Open it, come on!” Niall urged, bouncing in his place a little bit, still smiling brightly as ever.

Harry chuckled and nudged his mate’s knee. “Alright alright I’m doing it stay calm!” he replied, a laugh in his voice. He turned the present around for a while, taking the shiny red wrapping paper in that was obviously a leftover from Christmas, and managed to avoid hitting one of them in the progress.

When Harry finally ripped open the paper, he revealed a simple box, big and brown and giving no clue as though what there could be inside. “WOW I always wanted to have a box this side!” He joked, making Niall let out a loud laugh. He shifted the box so the opening was up and then opened it.

Harry swore, his heart stopped in that moment. He was looking down on a simple, beautiful, perfect, real guitar. Its corpse was shiny and black, shoving that it had been used but still in a near to perfect shape. The neck was long and slender, the strings new and shiny. It was a guitar. It was a goddamn holy-fucking guitar. Niall that sucker had gotten Harry a guitar.

“You – I – I mean you – you got me a guitar!” Harry exclaimed.

“I did” Niall smiled, kind of sheepishly, and a blush spread across his cheeks adorably.

Harry couldn’t believe it. “I can’t accept it” He said. The present was much too expensive. He wasn’t worth it. Alright, he loved playing guitar, used to do it quite a lot. But he knew for a fact that Niall didn’t have that much money, and that guitar had to be damn expensive and he couldn’t accept it, not from Niall.

“You can!” Niall replied. “See, I got it from ten bucks from a friend who needed to get rid of it. I know you love playing, you told me so yourself. I am so not taking it back – I have my own, I don’t need a second.”

Harry slowly lifted it out of the box, and Niall had enough of a mind to shove the wrapping off the bed. Harry, meanwhile, shifted the guitar in his grip, eyeing it, touching it. It didn’t only look good, it felt good as well. It felt amazing. He loved the foreign familiarity of the instrument, loved how his fingers instantly knew what they had to do even though he had to sell his last guitar years ago. His body still remembered, and when he let a first low chord fill the air, he felt his heart speeding up a little bit.

This was absolutely the best present ever.

“Niall” Harry breathed out, putting the guitar carefully down in the box on the side of the bed. As soon as the instrument was out of the way, he lunged at his best friend and hugged him tight. Niall let out a startled laugh, arms coming up to press Harry against him.

“Thank you” Harry whispered, pressing his face into the other boy’s neck.

Niall let his fingers run through Harry’s hair. “My pleasure. I’m glad you like it”

Harry pulled back at that a little bit, staring into those amazing sky blue eyes. “I don’t just like it – I love it!”

Niall smiled up at him, and suddenly it was totally quiet between them, the air changing, the time going by slower, if not stopping completely. Harry was aware how close they were, how Niall was basically in his lap and how their faces were only an inch aware, Niall’s breath tickling his face, his lips. The closeness of them was kind of overwhelming. And it was also totally and absolutely awesome and he wanted more.

The Irish boy’s eyes flickered down to Harry’s lips for a second, his own parting to let out a shaky breath. “I want to kiss you now.”

Harry barely managed to nod. He couldn’t breathe, but in a good way. He was nervous and his heart was hammering away in his chest and he couldn’t quite process that this was happening, that this was really happening.

And then Niall leaned forward and closed the gap between them, giving Harry his first kiss. Niall’s lips were chapped and firm on his, the kiss inexperienced, just the right kind of awkward. It was what Harry had dreamed of a lot in the last weeks, something they both wanted.

The thing was just that he felt absolutely nothing. When their lips touched the world started moving again, and he blinked at Niall in mild surprise when the other boy pulled away, and they just stared at each other for a while. So they had just kissed. So they had just been the closest they had ever been. Harry had wanted it. He had dreamed of it.

But right now, he was just feeling nothing.

“Well, that was –“ Harry started, trying to fill the silence that was building between the friends.

“SO not what I had expected” Niall let out an awkward laugh.

Harry smiled lopsidedly at that. “Yeah”

“Felt anything?” Niall asked.

“Nope”

“Me neither” Niall laughed, fell back onto the bed with a thump. “We’re such idiots!”

Harry couldn’t keep it together at that either. He fell down on Niall’s side as well, and they both stared at the ceiling of his room. “Such fools, yeah” He agreed. The thing was, nothing between them had changed. Harry felt no awkwardness between them. It was just a kiss gone wrong. A shared crush vanished into air after becoming real.

Niall nudged Harry’s shoulder with his own. “You had a crush on me”

Harry chuckled. “You’re awesome man – of course I had”

Niall let out another laugh. “But that was so –“

“It totally didn’t fit like, at all” Harry agreed, still smiling.

Niall nodded. “I know, right”

They laid there for a while longer, just catching their breaths from laughing. They were laughing about kissing each other, Harry realized. He’d always thought that a kiss would change a relationship, no matter which kind of. He knew that the moment they parted and he knew that he felt nothing, that his whole crush was gone flying out the window, he’d been worried that he could lose Niall.

But here they were, and they were laughing, and this was just as always. Ok, actually, it did change something – it showed them that they were really just good friends, and that the crush they had had equally for the past days was just kind of ridiculous. Harry was still just as comfortable around Niall as he’d been before, and he still wanted him close and in his life and he still didn’t want to share Niall or give him up anytime soon. But all the feelings that were at least in the beginning of romantic were gone, and that was good: now they could actually concentrate on being best friends.

“Sooo” Niall said after a while, “Will you play something for me?”

Harry hesitated for a second. All the people who had ever heard him play were dead .. or on the floor over them. Actually, Louis had been the last person to ever hear him play. Harry had never been open about it like Louis, rather kept his so called talent in private. He preferred to play alone in his room, where he could sing softly to the chords without anybody having to hear his singing voice.

“I don’t know …” Harry murmured, blushing.

“Come on, I know you’re good” Niall said, and sat up to get Harry the guitar. “You can’t tell me you have forgotten everything.”

This time, Harry took the guitar, sitting up and placing it in his arms, encircling it. His heartbeat was quickening again, but this time he was negatively nervous. “I –“ he stopped himself. “Will you sing?”

Niall smiled, nodded. “Well, as long as I know the song.”

Harry knew he did. So he started softly plucking on the strings, getting the hang of it right away like he had never stopped playing in the first place, and before he even knew what was happening, Niall was starting to sing.

 

_Summer has come and passed_

_The innocent can never last_

_Wake me up when September ends_

 

Harry knew for a fact that Niall had an amazing voice when it came to singing, all accented and rough around the edges, but still clear and just – just amazing. He loved hearing him sing, and he especially loved hearing him sing that certain song.

 

_Like my father’s come to pass_

_Seven years have gone so fast_

_Wake me up when September ends_

 

He didn’t realize it at first, but then he felt his own mouth moving, forming the words, lowly fitting his voice around Niall’s, matching it perfectly. For a second he stopped, worried – only Louis had ever heard him sing. But Niall shot him a smile, small and encouraging, and so Harry didn’t stop, and they sang the song together, slowly and sadly, just the way that song had to be sung in Harry’s opinion.

 

_Here comes the rain again_

_Falling from the stars_

_Drenched in my pain again_

_Becoming who we are_

_As my memory rests_

_But never forgets what I’ve lost_

_Wake me up when September ends …_


	21. Chapter 21

Harry was the one who knew best that life wasn’t easy. It didn’t jump around throwing glittering stars and rainbows, violet unicorns and hyperactive butterflies. It was horrible and terribly unfair at its worst, and bearable but still grey at its best. Right now, his own life was quite ok, he had to admit. But he also knew that when life was quite ok, it was always just waiting to bring on the next bad surprise, to bring the next thing that would crush him again.

That was why Harry was cautious – he was waiting for the storm to come crashing down around him. His life had been easy for a far too long time now, he could tell. But he didn’t know what was to come. He didn’t know what would happen next, and it made him wary, anxious even.

When he came, he’d expected it. Just not something like that. At night, when he had allowed himself to think about it, he’d imagined that Louis would’ve been left by his friends because they thought he was getting too cozy with him, or Louis’ friends starting to bully Harry again, probably even Niall. He’d imagined that he’d been taken from Jay because she had no right to look after him anymore, that he’d be put into a family where the people didn’t like him. He’d imagined that someone saw his cuts and found out how messed up he was, that they would put him into some kind of mental hospital.

But all that didn’t happen, all these things went surprisingly well; Louis’ clique kept it low, Jay kept him, Harry kept his secret. And looking back on that now, he should’ve expected that, too, because life only ever picks onto the thoroughly good people, not the ones who deserve bad luck. Except him, of course – he got the bad luck he deserved, but apparently fate meant well with him in the last weeks because everything was just fine in the weeks after his birthday.

That was until it all went to hell.

 

The first thing happened around Valentine’s Day, so only about two weeks after Harry’s birthday. Everything had been normal so far – some git got the idea again to put up hearts and pink decorations all over school again, and there was an organization where you could send Valentine’s cards to your lovelies. Everyone was only talking about the Valentine’s formal that took place that weekend, just like it had all the years before.

And then something happened to change pretty much everything. It was the .. Harry didn’t even know which day it was. But it was a normal day, not a Monday or a Friday or Valentine’s Day itself. Niall and Harry were sitting in their usual corner in the lunch hall that was filled with most students of their school. It was loud as it always was, the air filled with the chatter of the teens and the clatter of the dishes and the smell of the canteen food. It was normal, everything was just how it should be to Harry. He was chatting with his best friend, and Niall was making him laugh, just as always.

The shouts that came up then were louder than all the voices in the hall. Harry’s head instantly snapped up. As soon as he concentrated on the voice, he could make out its words, clear and loud. The whole canteen fell silent in a matter of seconds as everyone turned to stare at the source of the shouting.

“-ed to mean, you’re not going to the formal with me?!”

Of course Harry recognized the words – how couldn’t he? Everyone knew the voice of head-cheerleader Eleanor Calder. Just like everyone knew she was supposed to be Louis’ girlfriend. Harry instantly knew what that fuss was about. This was so going to hell, he could tell.

“It _means_ ” Louis shouted right back. He had never been good at holding his temper, but he was still less loud than  his – was she even his girlfriend?. “That I am _not_ going with you to that stupid school dance!”

“But you’re my boyfriend!” Harry couldn’t understand how people even let her talk. Her voice was awfully high and shriek-y and gosh, how could somebody survive her talking like that for hours?

Louis eyes were cold as ice when he looked at her, doubting her with an eyebrow pulled up. “Well, I am most certainly not.” He gave right back, his sass thick, and his British accent thicker. Harry swallowed, gripped the back of his chair a little tighter. This so wouldn’t end well.

Eleanor gaped at Louis, and like half the school hissed silently at that line, including Niall. Everybody was watching and they were silent so that you could understand the two most popular people in school fighting. They both had to be aware of that attention, and that was probably why Eleanor then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

“Oh, yeah right, you’re into dick now, I forgot” she sneered, and Harry’s vision blurred. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t breathe, and his heartbeat stuttered. There we go, from now on it would go to shit. “Go on then, go and fuck your little bastard boyfriend. Or did he already kill himself, that stupid wristcutting sucker?”

From then on, the sound in his ears, coming from his own blood, was louder than anything else. He still wasn’t able to move his gaze, to focus on something else. And of course he knew what she was talking about. Everybody heard the rumors. They were talking that Harry lived with Louis now, and of course everyone knew that Harry was a geek, had no friends and was utterly depressed. It was no secret.

But he would’ve never thought that they did know about – or was Eleanor just guessing, trying to hurt Louis? How could she even believe that Harry was a weak spot of Louis, something where she could hit him with? Harry didn’t know, but he also couldn’t think straight. Louis was in deep shit now, and it was his fault, it was all his fault.

Terror crept up his spine, hot and cold and blinding white. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She couldn’t say things like that. She couldn’t know things like that. Harry’s mind was going in circles, his vision was both fogging and spinning, but it was still clear on where Louis and Eleanor were standing, and Harry couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop mentioning.

Louis was trembling with anger. Even from afar, Harry knew that Louis had to be restraining himself really well from punching that damn girl. He knew that look, had seen it thousands of times: the hard set of Louis’ jaw, the deathly glare in his stone-cold blue eyes, the balled fists and tense shoulders, the way his nose flared. He had always looked like that when people had been assaulting Harry, back in primary school, when they were still friends.

Back then, he wouldn’t restrain the flying punches. Louis had always been small, but he had never been weak, and people didn’t want to fight against him. It didn’t change, but this situation was different. Because no matter how angry Louis got, he had received a proper education, he was a gentleman. Gentlemen didn’t punch girls in the face, no matter how much of a bitch they were.

Besides, Louis wasn’t angry because she made it about Harry. Louis would look exactly the same if it was about Liam, or Zayn, because he was angry that she dared calling him gay. That was the true problem here, Harry knew. Louis had struggled with disrespect all the time – he wasn’t gay, yet people had called him that all the time. Back then, it had been because Louis was so close to Harry. Back then, neither of them seemed to care, until it suddenly was about football. Today, it was about not going out with a girl, and that was just ridiculous.

Harry almost missed how Louis took a step closer to Eleanor, but suddenly he was right in her space, glaring down at her, hissing something. You could see his mouth moving, but Harry doubted even the closest to them understood what the boy was saying. And then he turned around, angrily, picked up his back, and strode out the cafeteria.

Harry’s eyes couldn’t help but follow him. There was something about his posture that just wasn’t right. He wanted to follow him himself, too, didn’t only want to track his movements with his eyes. He wanted to find him, offer him comfort, tell him it wouldn’t all go to hell so long until they both believed it. He couldn’t though. How would it look, if Harry just got up now and stormed out? Yeah, right, exactly like that. He couldn’t do that to Louis, it would only make everything worse.

Zayn was standing up, trying to follow Louis out of the canteen, Harry mentioned. He shouldn’t be mentioning so much and still feeling dizzy, but he was. He saw the lean dark frame of one of Louis’ closest friends unfold itself, stand up, make a move to leave, but Stan said something, outstretching a hand, gesturing Zayn to sit down again. Harry couldn’t catch what they said, but after a short argument Zayn sat down again.

Harry wished he hadn’t.

After another second, the boy turned around again, and he was faced with a very worried, very confused Niall. “What was that about?” the Irish boy wondered. He hadn’t quite picked up on the hatred going on in the upper class of the school hierarchy. He didn’t know that it was all about power, not about friendship at all. Niall had too much of a positive mind to know so.

Harry shrugged in response. He wasn’t going to tell him, like, ever. Also, he didn’t know what he could say that didn’t feel like only making it worse. He couldn’t tell Niall two things – Louis’ story, and Harry’s story. Well, Harry could tell him everything. Except for the reason why he wouldn’t be able to wear short sleeves for the next few years. Also, Harry feared if he told Niall what that scene was about, his walls would come completely tumbling down around Harry again.

“No, honestly, who was she talking about?” Niall wanted to know.

That’s when Harry looked up. He looked his best friend straight in the eye, and he knew both his face and his eyes were completely blank because he was wearing his mask again, making sure nobody saw he was close to a breakdown inside. He had to survive this break, couldn’t worry Niall.

“Me”, he finally said. It was silent, just a raw whisper, his voice raspy and broken. Harry couldn’t help but feel it all washing over him. He was guilty of what had happened there. It was all his fault. It was his fault Louis was in so much distress. If it wasn’t for him, Louis would be happy now, he wouldn’t be alone somewhere in the corridors, trying to get a grip on his temper. He could be in peace, nobody would doubt him or his position or his sexuality or generally anything about him.

Harry knew for sure that without him, without him everything would be fine in Louis’ life. But thanks to Harry and the rumors he was causing, it was all slowly falling apart. Louis’ place on the team was at risk, and Harry knew how important it was. Louis couldn’t lose it. He needed a football scholarship to go to college, to make something out of his life. He wasn’t the brightest candle on the tree that much was for sure. So if Louis would get thrown out of the team, it would not only cause temporary disdain. It would destroy Louis’ complete life.

Somehow, Harry held himself together all through lunch break. Niall was worried because Harry was unusally quiet, like he’d only been at the beginning of their friendship, and wouldn’t answer any of Niall’s questions. But Harry couldn’t bring himself to care too much about that. His mind was spinning, his thoughts too quick to catch, except for one all too familiar urge. He already saw the driplets of dark crimson running again, even though he knew he couldn’t. He’d been clean for a few weeks now, he couldn’t just destroy that. He needed to be strong.

The fact was just he wasn’t. So when the bell rang, he said his quiet goodbyes to a startled Niall, and rushed off. He knew exactly where to go. He couldn’t focus on anything else as he hurried down the corridors. There was a loo near the biology rooms nobody ever used. Like, really, never, because a few years ago a boy had hung himself in there, and well, that kept the students away.

So Harry rushed there, and slipped inside, and he only mentioned the other figure in the room when he was already about to let his bag fall and scramble for the one blade he knew was in there somewhere.

“What the fuck?”

It was Louis. Of course it was Louis. Of hella fucking course Louis had to be there. Harry flinched, not daring to look at Louis. He could tell just from the tone of Louis voice that he’d fucked up again. He couldn’t do anything right, so it shouldn’t be a surprise.

“What are you doing here?” Louis demanded to know, angrily.

Harry flinched again. He hadn’t been scared of Louis in a long time, but right now he was. “I –“

But Louis didn’t want the answer, didn’t listen to him. “Do you want to ruin everything completely now? Do you really wanna destroy my life? You almost did it! I knew you’ve seen it! I could be thrown off the team for what she said, and everything just because of _you_!”

Harry knew he would never forget how Louis looked in that moment. The boy was furious, he was angry, he was so disappointed. And his words, his words stung like heated poisoned blades all over Harry’s body. He wrapped his arms around himself, flinching with every word, ducking away when Louis shoved past him out of the door.

As soon as the door fell shut, Harry’s knees buckled and the tears started spilling and it was just too much altogether. “I just want to know you’re happy” he whispered, but nobody could hear him.


	22. Chapter 22

Somehow Harry collected himself enough not to relapse too bad when he was home. He didn’t know how, but he made it. That didn’t change the fact that the silence was back between Louis and Harry, inside Harry, nagging at him, slowly filling him again. The older boy ignored him again, and the small space between them was tense, filled with all these things unsaid.

Harry just wanted to apologize to him. He wanted to tell Louis just how sorry he was, that he didn’t mean to do all that. That drive home, he literally would’ve done everything as long as that would bring him Louis back. But he knew it would be impossible to just tell him. Louis was so angry, so disappointed, right now Harry couldn’t change that.

So the words stayed stuck in Harry’s throat, that day as well as the day after that and that day after, because Louis’ anger didn’t seem to face, and Harry was scared, he was so lost without him in his life. He had realized that he couldn’t change it, that it was Louis’ job to come down so harry could talk to him, but apparently that wasn’t about to happen.

So of course, Harry was miserable. He was more silent again, even around Niall, and both words and smiles became rarer again. It was sad to watch how he started to hide again, terrified of that world that he had only now come to accept with the help of his best friend on his side. Niall even mentioned, worried, but Harry couldn’t tell him, wouldn’t tell him. It was a thing between Louis and Harry.

A thing that lead to more problems – for every thick silence during tense car drives, Harry added a new collection of scars to his body. Every burning glare from Louis when Harry so much as tried to talk to him would make him shrink into himself again. And only when Harry was getting better and started to accept that he wouldn’t get Louis back in the next weeks, the next thing happened.

Something even worse.

 

In all these weeks that Niall and Harry had been friends, Niall had never missed a day of school. He was always there on Harry’s side during the day, even when he had a raw throat and could barely talk at all. When Harry had asked him why, he’d said it was because he didn’t want to miss anything, he wanted to be good in school to make his mum proud.

That was why Harry was worried in the first place when Niall didn’t come to school one Friday morning about two weeks after the Louis-Eleanor-incident. They had arts together that first period, but Niall wouldn’t come, not even after about an hour in (sometimes he overslept and then stumbled in some time later, all blushing and apologizing because it was embarrassing to have overheard the alarm).

Harry texted Niall then in the first free minute he got, but he didn’t get an answer. That was the other unlikely thing – Niall was a smartphone zombie, a hundred percent addicted to his phone. So when he hadn’t answered on Whatsapp for hours, yet alone just checked it, even when Harry was home a long time, sitting in his room accompanied by Fizz, Harry got a really bad feeling about that.

It wasn’t that Harry feared Niall would try to get rid of him, having found better friends. Niall wasn’t one to get rid of people, and they were close friends, contrary to the popular belief that you could not be friends with Harry. No, Niall wouldn’t just behave like Louis and let Harry fall for no real reason.

That meant that something was going wrong. Something had to be really badly wrong. Harry didn’t know what it was, but with the worry something bitter, cold and deeply terrifying settled deep in his guts. It unsettled him because he felt like he was missing the important point here, and he didn’t know what it was. He just wanted to know what was up, he wanted to know Niall was ok, so he decided he would go to Niall’s on Saturday.

First, he had to get through his shift in the Bakery. On Saturdays and Sundays, he would always work from four to ten instead of only until seven on the weekdays. After that, he didn’t even go home to change or shower, he just drove straight to Niall’s complex on his bike. When he left it by the entrance and went up the few stairs to the doorbells, his heart wouldn’t stop pounding. He was nervous. What if nobody opened?

When the door was buzzed open after he rung the bell, Harry felt relieved. Probably Niall had just caught the flu and his internet wasn’t working so he didn’t know that Harry had tried to contact him. Yeah, that had to be it. Harry jumped up the by now familiar stairs in a hurry; and then slowed down when he saw who was standing in the door.

“Hello Harry” Mrs Horan said, and she sounded surprised. “What are you doing here?”

That was when he really couldn’t help to worry. Not only that the small blond Irish woman was never home before late in the afternoon on Saturdays, but she also looked sad and tired, like she hadn’t slept much and cried a lot. That was the worst sign of it all. Harry didn’t know what to make of it. What if something had happened? What if Harry hadn’t been there? His heart was pounding again, and the blood was rushing through his veins so loud he could barely make out anything else.

“I – I’m looking for Niall” Harry finally said, his voice small and rough but still too loud in his own ears. He couldn’t concentrate on anything but the worry, the guilt forming in him.

“He didn’t tell you?” The woman asked, and she sounded just as sad and tired as she looked. She let him inside the flat, and Harry could tell she was alone – Niall was always making some kind of noise, and that was just missing from the flat. It appeared strangely empty without him.

Harry turned around to look at Mrs Horan and shook his head.

She in return took a deep breath and closed the door softly behind herself. “Niall is in hospital again – he needs a new chemotherapy”

In that moment, Harry’s world stopped and collapsed in on itself. Niall needed chemotherapy. His Niall, his bubbly, loud, hyperactive, Irish Niall needed chemotherapy. “What?” he breathed before he could even help himself. He couldn’t believe it. Of course that only happened to the good people.

“Let’s have a cuppa, I’ll tell you everything” Mrs Horan said softly, and she even smiled a little, even though it was really sad and didn’t quite reach her eyes.

That’s how they seated themselves in the kitchen and over some good old Earl Grey Mrs Horan told Harry everything about the situation her son was in: Niall had lung cancer. They’d found out in an early stadium, that was why his treatment had went so well in the beginning. But in the last check-up, just after Christmas, they had found out that his cancer was spreading again. The clinic here in Doncaster had one of the best cancer centers in the whole United Kingdom, and so Mrs Horan and Niall moved here, far away from Niall’s home but closer to help for him. During the first months, they had only run tests with him that didn’t acquire too much time and could be finished in just an afternoon or something. But now it was time to harden treatments and get rid of the cancer again, so Niall had to be transferred to the clinic.

“I don’t understand why he didn’t tell you” Mrs Horan said in the end.

But Harry did. He understood why people kept secrets like these when they just wanted to have a normal life. It was the same reason why Harry hadn’t told Niall about his scars and the complete lack of self-esteem he was fighting with every day. If people got to know about that, they started treating you differently. But mostly, you didn’t want people to treat you differently. You wanted to be a normal person, you didn’t want to be pitied or something similar. And so you kept your secret to yourself to not lose them again.

That’s why he shrugged, murmured an “I don’t blame him”

For a second they were both silent, and then Mrs Horan asked: “Do you want to see him?”

Harry was surprised she offered that to him. He wasn’t a family member, and all the business with the cancer and stuff was pretty private. But he just couldn’t say no, he couldn’t not see Niall. He just wanted to know he would be ok again. He wouldn’t stand to lose Niall as well. It would be the last step it would take. “If that’s ok with you” he answered, his voice silent, full of all these feelings he usually didn’t let anyone see.

And so Mrs Horan took him to the hospital. They drove in the small red VW she owned, and BBC played music in the background that didn’t quite fit the atmosphere between them. Harry found it hard to breathe, and his fingers were shaking and sweating and he couldn’t think. He kept replaying all the time he’d spent with Niall in his head, but he couldn’t find any clues, anything that could’ve been a moment where Harry should’ve mentioned something. Niall was really very good at hiding it, goddamn.

When they arrived, Mrs Horan gave Harry the directions to Niall’s room. “I’ll just pick up some food or something for him, I’ll be back in like, half an hour or something.”

Harry nodded wordlessly and sent the woman a short, thankful smile. He was grateful for the time she gave her to spend alone with Niall. He needed that now. So she left, and he sauntered through the hospital halls, trying to find the room. He was reminded of that one day about four months ago, when he had been looking for another deadly sick person in these halls. It didn’t make it easier. What if Niall wouldn’t get out of here alive as well?

The thing was, Harry really didn’t like being in the hospital. It reminded him of too many bad things that had happened to him in these halls. He didn’t want to be here, the urge to just turn around and flee itched just beneath his skin. The walk to Niall’s room was long, and he got more anxious with each more step. But he forced himself to go on, no matter how hard and how terrifying it was. It was about Niall here, and he would do everything for Niall.

It didn’t matter that his father and his mother died here, that they’d brought him here after his sister had killed herself for a few therapy sessions. It didn’t matter that Harry was so badly affected by his surroundings. It was Niall, his best friend. Niall was stronger than his family had been. He would get out of here, and he would be even better off than before, and most importantly, he wouldn’t even think of leaving Harry alone here.

Eventually, Harry reached the room. This part of the hospital smelled like sterilium and death, and it was silent, too silent. There were no TV’s running, no patients sauntering over the hallways, and the nurses hurrying past him were earnest and silent. Niall didn’t belong in here, not that Niall he used to know. This wasn’t the place where he would’ve put Niall. But when Harry checked for the room numbers – maybe he had taken a wrong turn? –, he found himself standing in front of the door he’d been looking for the past minutes.

He stood in front of the white surface, unable to move or yet alone do anything but breathe. He knew that feeling of anxiety that had settled deep in his bones. It was the same feeling he’d had when he’d seen his mum for the last time. It felt final, and he knew that whatever would happen when he opened the door would change Niall’s and his friendship forever, would unsettle something that might mean the end. For another second, he hesitated.

Then he raised his hand, and carefully knocked on the door.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY an update :D I /promise/ there'll be more Larry soon. Have some Narry brotp time now tho ;)

Chapter 21

“Come on in”

Harry’s hand was shaking when he pulled open the door. The panic was filling him like it hadn’t had in many long weeks. He didn’t know what to expect would happen next. What would Niall say? What would he look like? Would something change between them? He couldn’t help but hear all these questions racing through his mind. He wouldn’t stand to leave Niall, not now and not ever and no matter because of what, that much was clear.

“Harry!”

Niall was laying on the bed in grey sweatpants and a shirt from a long-forgotten band with a washed-out logo. He looked a bit pale, more fragile than usual, but maybe it only seemed like this because they were in a fucking hospital and now Harry knew about Niall’s sickness. It was right saying knowing people’s secrets changes the view on them. Harry forced himself to stand above that though – Niall still looked pretty healthy, so that was definitely a relief.

“Hi” Harry murmured, closing the door behind himself softly. He felt slightly out of place, awkward, anxious, and so he just stood there in the room, shuffling his feet, his shoulders scrunched up. He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. This so wasn’t who he’d been in the last weeks, at least not who he’d been around Niall.

Niall looked at Harry in surprise, appearing a bit startled by his appearance. “What are you doing here?” he asked. But the thing was, he didn’t sound angry, or annoyed, or anything else that Harry’s much too quickly racing mind had come up with as an option. Niall was obviously caught off-guard, but he didn’t seem to mind too much.

“I –“ Harry took a deep breath. There was no right to be embarrassed like that. It was only Niall; his best friend, for god’s sake. He better calmed down quickly. “I was worried. Your mum brought me here.”

Niall smiled. It wasn’t exactly as bright or as cheery as usual, but that was more because of the situation they were in than because of his sickness. With every part of his Niall that Harry discovered, he felt himself getting a little bit calmer. He figured he’d been more worried than he’d admitted earlier. “So she told you, uh?” Harry only nodded wordlessly, another blush creeping over his face. Niall sighed. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you myself. I just –“

“It’s ok, I get it” Harry interrupted him gently. He now had regained enough calmness to take a few steps closer, until he could sit down on the chair next to Niall’s bed. Sitting down was definitely a good idea – he wasn’t exactly weak on his knees, but he’d felt a bit shaken, if he was honest. It’d been a lot he’d had to deal with today even though the day was still young. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Niall shrugged. “Pretty ok, I guess. Like, it could’ve been worse, so I’m glad” Harry was glad, too: glad that Niall was alright, glad that Niall was honest with him. This was one of the main reasons why he appreciated Niall so much – when Harry discovered something new about him, he suddenly forgot to be sure about it and was just honest with his best friend. Harry could trust Niall that whatever came out of his mouth was the truth and nothing but the truth.

Niall then stretched out his hand, and Harry entwined their fingers without really thinking about it. They’d always been affectionate with each other, especially after the kiss on Harry’s birthday. After the fronts had been cleared out, they didn’t have to be shy around each other. And Harry was just happy to find physical comfort in Niall as well as the mental one. So yeah, holding hands wasn’t exactly something special for them in a time like this, it only felt natural; innocent even.

“I really really wanted to tell you” Niall affirmed again. “But I- I just couldn’t. You – you could’ve left me, y’know? And I really didn’t wanna risk that.” Harry had never heard Niall talking like that – that boy was even stuttering, blushing again, his hand feeling slightly clammy in Harry’s own. It made his heart clench just a tiny bit; Niall shouldn’t be unsure about anything, shouldn’t be looking sheepish like that.

So he shook his curly head. “I’d never. You’re the best friend I have” The only friend, too. Harry only had Niall, and Niall pretty sure knew that, so he didn’t mention it extra. It was implied though, and Harry meant it – he couldn’t leave Niall, even if he’d tried. He relied too much on that stupid Irish fuck to let him slip away.

A short smile ghosted over Niall’s features, but it didn’t really reach his blue eyes. “I thought that of Josh, too.”

Harry perked up. He’d heard that name before, but never in such a tone of Niall’s voice. He looked at Niall in wonder, and the blond boy didn’t hesitate to tell Harry of the guy he’d loved back in Ireland. “We’ve been good friends all our lives. He was loud, funny, mostly like me – or at least basically like me. We fell in love when we were, like, 13 or something. Like I know we’ve only been kids, but god how I loved him. He’s been my first friend, my first kiss, my first lover. And then they found out I had cancer. I was so terrified. Like, I had my whole life in front of me, and then they told me I had a sickness that caused death. Ok, they told me I’d survive with a likeliness of 80%, but cancer is a goddamn terrifying thing when you have it, really. He was the first one I told. I mean, my family knew, of course they did, but he was the first one aside them. He cried then, cried so much, and suddenly everything just went down the drain. And – he left me in the end. Told me he loved me but he couldn’t do it. I haven’t heard much of him ever since.”

Harry listened to Niall, how his voice wavered at certain spots, and he could feel it. He could feel the pain Niall had to be feeling back then up until right now. He could feel it because to some degree, it was his pain as well. Only now Harry realized that they weren’t quite as different as he’d thought they were. They were both living in a bad fate, had to live in a chaos others would call life, and they’d both gone through major changes that had taken the people they loved most away from them.

The only difference between them seemed to be their way of coping with what was going on in their lives. Niall was a fighter, a survivor; he didn’t let himself be brought down, not even by the fact that he had a sickness that could kill him in a matter of weeks. He just went on, held his head high, and Harry didn’t doubt a second that Niall would win his war against the cancer. Harry was another story though. He had been broken by all the demons that had destroyed his life over and over again. He’d been pulled under, pulled into darkness, and he was too weak to pull himself out of it all alone.

And the thing was, Harry kind of felt sorry for how he was coping. Niall had it so much worse, his situation was so much more fucked up, yet Harry was the one giving up, only pitying himself and not being able to hold himself upright. Niall had every right to be depressed or anything close to what Harry was. But he wasn’t. And Harry was and that was just not right.

Even though Harry felt all of this in these moments, he didn’t say he was sorry. He didn’t like that phrase in the context of people finding out uncomfortable details about other people’s lives. It only showed that they pitied the other one, even though there barely was a reason to really pity them. Also, most of that concern behind the phrase ‘I’m so sorry to hear that’ was as real as Pamela Anderson’s boobs. It was just not right to say that to Niall.

So Harry ended up only squeezing Niall’s hand, reassuring, offering as much comfort as he could give. He knew he wouldn’t be able to tell Niall everything just yet. He wouldn’t be able to tell Niall that he had his Josh, too, and that his Josh had even left him without saying goodbye. He just couldn’t do that, wasn’t ready for that, no matter how much he trusted Niall. But that was a thing between Louis and him just like Louis wouldn’t even get to know about Niall’s condition if they were still talking to each other …

“It’s ok Nialler. I get it. Like –“ He hesitated. Maybe he should show that he was grateful for the information Niall had given, and at least offer a little bit of his story for his best friend. He deserved to know, after all. “Louis and I used to be quite similar” he quietly admitted, not looking at Niall when he confessed.

Niall was surprised, threw a startled look at Harry. “Do I want to know?” he asked.

Harry let out a low chuckle that didn’t sound amused in the slightest. “Not really. Another time, maybe” Harry ducked his head again, and for a few seconds, both boys were just silently beside each other. “How long will you have to stay here?” Harry asked in the end, voice still quiet, uncertain.

“Not that long, really” Niall answered. “Two weeks, three tops.” He let his head fall back against the cushions, staring up at the ceiling. Funnily enough, he seemed to be just as always. Maybe not loud and cheery, but Harry had discovered a while ago that Niall could do calm, too. “You know that you’re always welcome here, alright?”

Harry smiled, and this time it was a real smile. It was only a small one, but at least it was one. “Like you could get rid of me” he said, just because. He meant it. He wouldn’t leave Niall, wouldn’t let him down for nothing.

At that, Niall smiled at Harry, then scooted a bit away from him and let go of his hand, only to pat the space on the mattress beside him. “Come here and cuddle your Nialler, mate, he could need a bit affection right now” he said with a sly grin, and Harry grinned right back when he didn’t hesitate to climb in next to him, pull him to his chest. Harry couldn’t explain the relief he felt when everything was settling down into their normal pattern again. Niall curled into Harry’s side, and everything felt normal and right.

Well, except the fact that Niall was laying on Harry’s cuts and ouch, that really wasn’t intended. Harry couldn’t help but tense a little, try to wriggle away from it a bit, careful so he wouldn’t startle Niall. It surprised him more than a little bit when Niall instantly shifted away from where he had to be feeling the heat from the oversensitive broken flesh.

“Sorry” Niall said, and Harry stared at him more than a little startled. “Didn’t mean to hurt you”

“You didn’t” Harry was quick to reply – too quick. He knew that Niall had picked up on it, yet everything he could think of was that he had to keep hiding that secret. He hadn’t really told Niall yet, and he hadn’t really planned on doing so anytime in the nearer future. It probably wasn’t exactly fair to Niall, since Harry now knew his biggest secrets and all that. But Harry was used to hiding all that, he was used to not showing who he really was because people thought it abnormal, and he couldn’t simply escape that pattern now.

“You don’t really believe I didn’t mention it, did you?” Niall asked incredulously, looking up at Harry with big blue eyes. Harry tensed up a bit again, and Niall sighed, laying his head back down on Harry’s chest again. “Greg used to have a problem with cutting, too, a few years ago. Got out of it when he met his fiancée though.” He told Harry. “So yah, I recognize the signs.”

“Oh” Harry didn’t know what to say, he really didn’t. It was awkward and shocking and scary and – why was Niall still friends with a pathetic fucker like him if he knew? That just didn’t make sense.

“Hey, stay cool, Haz. I don’t care as long as you don’t push it too far.” Niall said, and Harry instantly knew what he was talking about. “You wouldn’t – would you?”

The uncertainty, the worry in Niall’s words let Harry peek up a bit. It let him realize that he really mattered to Niall, at least enough so that the other boy didn’t want Harry to end his life. He’d never really stopped thinking of himself as worthless, he’d just thought about it less in the last weeks. And now he saw that maybe he wasn’t, at least not to everyone, and he hadn’t felt something like that ever since – he didn’t even know. It was different from everything he’d felt before.

“Nah” Harry answered quietly. He knew now that he really meant it. “Got you, don’t I?”

It brought a smile to Niall’s face again. “Good” he murmured. They just stayed like this then, hugging each other close, thinking about what they’d confessed to the other in the last minutes. There was really a damn lot they had to process, and so they were both quiet, finding new strength in their best friend’s presence. It was quiet and calm and utterly soothing for both of them.

Harry was the one to break the silence in the end. “What will happen in the next weeks?” he asked, his voice quiet, showing his nervousness.

“I’m gonna puke loads most likely, and I’ll probably lose some of my hair. You gotta cope in school alone for a while.” Niall said, shrugging ever so slightly. Then he turned his head, looked Harry in the eyes. “Do you think you’ll be ok?”

That was so typically Niall, always worrying about the others even when he was in the worse shape. Harry smiled, ruffled his hair. “I survived alone before you came, you know?”

“Yah, the thing’s just _how_ you survived”

“I’ll be ok, don’t worry about me. You’re the one in the hospital, after all!”

“School’s worse I’d say”

“Oh shut up now, Niall. I mean it.”

“Me too”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I don't have a clue what took me so fucking long with that chapter. I had it finished for a couple of weeks now, but I just didn't find the time or the motivation to type it in. So here we go. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, as always I'm the only one proofreading. I still hope you like it, and I also hope you had happy holidays and all that :)

Chapter 22

Harry spent about two hours in the hospital. Soon he crawled out of the bed again, on time so Mrs. Horan didn’t see them like that when she brought lunch; more like breakfast talking for Harry, but that was just an unimportant detail. They just sat and chatted, but Harry couldn’t really settle down. He felt the uneasiness deep in his bones, felt himself become more nervous again, not really being able to settle down again. He started doubting what peace he had built in his head.

Then, just after one, Mrs. Horan headed home, and she took Harry with her because after all his bike was still at their flat. So yeah, he left with her, thanked her for both lunch and rides and then rode off. His mind was filled with thoughts, but they were blurred and knotted and he couldn’t decipher them. All he knew was what he was feeling. The coldness of his skin, mirroring in his mind. He could feel how the warmth that had settled in his heart slipped away from him.

He knew he was spiraling downwards – he’d been spiraling ever since the incident shortly after his birthday – but right now it was going down in an enormous speed and he could feel it, could feel the darkness ripping at his limbs, tearing open his wounds once more. There was so much bugging him, how could he not go down again, slowly but steadily? First the thing with Louis – he’d thought they could still be some kind of friends, could become friends again. Louis had said he wouldn’t leave again, right? And now he was gone, and god how it hurt.

And now Niall. Harry didn’t understand – how did somebody like Niall deserve it? Niall was so caring and open and beautiful in his very own way and he was just such a good person; why did they have to do that to him? Harry could already see Niall there, laying motionless, too pale. He could see Mrs. Horan crying, he could see himself cry, and Jay and Fizz and the twins who’d loved Niall as well. He could feel the pain ripping at his heart and he knew, he just knew, he couldn’t stand to ever lose Niall.

All these thoughts were hitting him in the places where he thought he wouldn’t be hit anymore. It took his breath away on the way home, made his chest go tight and his head dizzy. But even worse, it made his skin start to itch again. He hadn’t really been clean these past weeks, there were always some healing cuts scattering his skin somewhere. But this, this was worse and he knew it. He knew this time it wouldn’t end well. He felt it tearing at him, and he knew he couldn’t fight it this time.

He just couldn’t. He felt utterly, terrifyingly alone and he had nobody to lean on in this very moment. Niall didn’t need any more shit put onto him and Louis – well, Louis was Louis. And Fizz didn’t even know and he wasn’t planning on letting her know anytime soon. He just couldn’t go to her, he had to be more than that, stronger than that. He wasn’t strong though. He was being pulled deep down under again, and he knew he would fall as soon as he was at home because he was weak and pathetic like that.

If someone had been home, Harry would’ve probably been able to put himself together, and maybe that would’ve laid it off, maybe completely stopped what was about to happen. But Jay was working until late in the afternoon and Lottie and Fizz had taken out the twins for some school project that the small girls needed to do and wouldn’t be back in the next hours either. And Louis was never home on Saturdays, either having a game or hanging out with his mates. He was alone, and the amount of jackets on the wardrobe and shoes on the floor just proved that.

He was really all alone. Harry let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders falling and the fake smile plastered on his features crumbling, giving in. He felt the breakdown closing around him, taking away the air he wanted to breathe; it was coming kind of out of nowhere, even though he knew better than that. He knew that it had been coming for a while now, he’d just been strong enough to fight it every single other time. But now he was not. Now he was weaker than before. And it was coming and it was going to crash him. Harry could tell from the shaking in his bones, the trembling of his fingers, the lump in his throat and the tightness of his skin. He knew those signs, had lived through them too often to not recognize them.

He barely made it to his room before the first tears spilled. His boots and his coat he’d left downstairs where they belonged, so it was easy for him to pull up his sleeves, pull out the small grey box with his blades inside. They’d been hidden well in there, and he would like to keep that like that. He hadn’t been able to throw them away, and he would probably never be. He still needed them. Still needed what they offered to him.

He sat down on the bed, his thin body shaken from suppressed sobs – no matter how alone he was, he couldn’t be loud, that would even be too weak for him. He pulled out one blade, turned his arm and didn’t hesitate to go down on himself.

_Slice slice slice_

A low whimper escaped Harry’s throat. It was his fault entirely. He’d destroyed what he’d had with Louis; he’d not been strong enough to be there for Niall. He was such a weak disappointing fuck-up. He didn’t deserve what Niall and the Tomlinsons gave to him.

_Cut cut cut_

Everything ached, every muscle and every nerve and every cell in his body. He wished he could swap with Niall. Niall didn’t deserve the cancer, the death coming with it. Niall deserved a normal life, a life that Harry had. He knew he wouldn’t hesitate to take Niall’s place as long as the boy would survive. Harry did deserve that pain and darkness.

_Drip drip drip_

Harry caught the droplets of blood running down his wrist, the broken white skin of his forearm’s underside with a tissue. That was what he deserved: blood, pain, destruction. But it wasn’t enough; the couple of gashes in his skin weren’t enough. He needed more.

_More more more_

He only stopped when the whole underside of his right arm was covered in gaping wounds, the blood running out of the hit veins. The deep red blood was the only blotch of color in his life right now, and it made him calm down. It was something he could hold onto when everything else had fallen apart. He was still alive.

_Pain pain pain_

Now that he let the agony wash over him, he could breathe again. His relapse pulled him back into reality and he didn’t feel any guilt, not really. He couldn’t be guilty when he could breathe again, when the shaking stopped and the sobs subsided. That method always worked, he could rely on it. It was good. So why should he be guilty?

Now that he calmed down the boy started wiping away the blood from his arm. The first tissue was soaked quickly, and so were the second and the third tissue he got. Only when the white papers were soaked red he realized he would have to patch himself up once more. He still had that first-aid kit in his drawers that he’d needed almost every time back in November. It was stacked well, and so that wasn’t much of a problem to pull the bandages out and wrap them around his arm skillfully.

That’s when the guilt took over. It was just another example for ‘how Harry Styles keeps fucking up everything’. He couldn’t even stop when it was getting dangerous. He didn’t want to die, he knew he couldn’t do that to Niall. He did it to feel alive again, but he still cut too much and too deep too quickly. He couldn’t restrain himself. He was such a failure. It brought the tears back into his eyes, let a few of them spill over, run down his cheeks and drip onto his jeans or sweater from his chin.

And Harry just sat there motionless, like he was in a trance. The bloody tissues were still scattered around him and he didn’t bother pulling down his sleeve again, the bandage standing out clean white against its black material. His blade was still not put away. It would be so easy to do a couple more, just because. And of course Harry couldn’t restrain himself. He picked the blade up, pulled up his other sleeve, and dragged it across his skin. This time the cuts weren’t deep, just enough to let the blood come out in pretty little droplets. That was what he deserved, he told himself. Blood and pain. Death, sooner rather than later.

He sat there, watching the blood flow, tears falling, mingling with the blood on his skin, stinging in his cuts. And of course that’s when his door opened.

 

To Harry, time froze in that moment. His head flew up, his gaze locking on the figure in the frame, but he didn’t even try to hide it. It was too late, they had found him. Of fucking course, he could try to scramble all the tissues and blades out of sight, pull the sleeves down to hide it. Bu t even if he tried, he couldn’t hide it. It was too late. Also he was kind of completely frozen in shock when he realized who was there in his room.

Louis.

Harry stared at the boy completely dumbfounded. Why was he here? His coat and shoes hadn’t been downstairs. Harry had been alone. Also, why was he in his room? Louis didn’t give two shits about Harry, not anymore. He had no reason to be here, absolute no fucking reason. But he was still here, and he looked shocked from what he’d seen and more, something Harry couldn’t figure out. Louis looked a whole lot small and really a lot not intimidating in his grey sweatpants and Harry’s too big sweater and his hair was unmade and his socked feet turned inward just a little bit.

Harry wanted to be angry, wanted to shout at him and kick him out of this room, lock the door behind the older boy, but he really couldn’t find the strength to do so. The thing was Louis was most likely going judge him. He would use it against Harry, call him names and break him even further. But Harry couldn’t be angry at Louis. He still loved him too much, even after everything he’d done, and that realization knocked the breath right out of him.

“Harry” Louis breathed, sounding so small and so broken. Harry expected him to leave, run away, hate him even more. But Louis didn’t. Instead he stepped inside completely, closed the door softly. He moved slowly, carefully, always so carefully, like he didn’t want to upset Harry and make him run away, over to the bed. Harry watched him while he moved, but couldn’t do anything himself. He just let his gaze follow Louis wordlessly when the older boy picked up the tissues gently and threw them away, when he wrapped the blade again and put it back in its box.

And Harry still couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t process what was going on. Louis was looking after him, was worrying about him. It let him pause, and he was caught in something that didn’t allow himself to do anything but watch, kind of in fear, but also kind of in wonder. Only when the mattress dipped beneath Louis’ weight and Harry saw the hands reaching out for his sleeves like they wanted to touch him, he shied away from the other boy. He looked like a deer in the headlights of the truck.

“Harry” Louis said again. His eyes were wide and open and so unbelievably blue when he looked at him. “Please.”

Harry didn’t know what he was asking for. What did Louis want from him? He didn’t know, couldn’t tell. The times where he’d understood Louis without words were long gone. So Harry once again just stared, not a word escaping his lips.

“You don’t deserve it” Louis murmured softly, and he really sounded like he fucking cared, all of a sudden. “You shouldn’t be doing that to yourself.”

And that’s what made Harry snap. How did he dare? Louis didn’t know a thing about him except how to break his heart again and again, and he didn’t fucking give a damn what happened to Harry. He’d never given a shit, so how could he dare to speak like that now? The anger came and it took over Harry just as quick as the breakdown had just half an hour earlier. “You don’t know what I do and don’t deserve!” Harry snapped, glaring at Louis now. Louis didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t know a thing about Harry.

“But I know you”

And then that day completely went to hell.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry this update took me so long, but my girlfriend was here last week and then school started and I have to organize so much stuff and cope with so much and I know it's disappointing to be waiting so much and then only getting 1,6k words like this is so short I'm sorry but I just couldn't do more. I can promise you one thing though - from now on it will be going upwards and it will continue to go upwards.

Chapter 23

“I do know you, Harry. I know what you love and what makes you smile. You’re still the same, you know? You still smile over the same things, like when you see the first drops of rain on the window or when I turn up the music when I know the song that’s on is one of your favorite. You still laugh over the same things, like when Fizz does her bad impersonations of her teachers or when the twins make you wear pigtails all day. That hasn’t changed about you.

And it also hasn’t changed what things hurt you. You have no clue how dangerous that is, Harry. I know how to hurt you, and it makes it so easy. It’s so damn easy to shove you away with that knowledge – especially when I need you most. I do. Need you. Did you know that? I need you so much. I need you to smile at me, to laugh with me, to relax when I’m around. To look at me with that look of yours that makes me feel like I actually mean something.

I need you, but I can’t have you. I can’t have the only person I need to breathe, and do you know why? I have to let you go so I have at least a tiny chance of a future out there. I don’t have many chances, and the one chance I have of actually not ending as a total fuck-up is the one where I have to let you go for in return.

I am so sorry, Harry. You’re so … you’re so flawless and gorgeous and all I do is hurt you, over and over again. I left you alone when you needed me just because I am a selfish dick and all I keep doing is pushing you down even though I should be supporting you, helping you back on your feet.

So don’t you dare tell me it’s not my goddamn fault that you did all of this. If I had been there for once, all that shit wouldn’t have happened. If I had been there for you, you would be ok. I could have looked after you. No, I should have looked after you. You needed me and I let you down because I was so damn afraid, so terrified of what was gonna happen if I would’ve admitted what I was feeling for one single time.

I can just say it again. I am so damn sorry. You don’t deserve it. To be treated like – like I treat you, ok? I want you to know that. You have to understand it when I tell you that you deserve better. You deserve the fucking world. But what you don’t deserve is what you’re doing to yourself.

I don’t know what made you do it. Probably your sister’s death, right? And I know it’s an addiction and you can’t easily get out of it. Really, I’m not stupid. But – don’t you have another option? You’re not alone anymore. You have, like, Niall or Fizz – you can actually talk to them. I mean I don’t actually know a thing about cutting, that whole self-harm stuff, but I know that there are alternatives that won’t leave me fearing to lose you completely.

I wouldn’t stand that, you know? I couldn’t stand watching you die. I mean, I can’t even get along not being your friend, but .. at least you’re still there, you know? I can still see you, and I can make sure you’re still real. Without you, I … fuck, Harry, without you, there is literally no me left.”

Harry felt like he couldn’t breathe. His ribcage was too tight; his lungs didn’t have enough space to work properly. And there couldn’t come any air through his throat, there was not enough space for the air to pass. He felt like he was being choked.

The worst thing was he knew what Louis was saying. He felt the same, except no, Harry didn’t feel like Louis at all. But he knew what Louis tried to tell him or at least he thought he did. He just wasn’t quite able to wrap his mind around it. No, he honestly couldn’t believe that Louis felt anything of that. He looked at the older boy with wide eyes, terrified, frozen to the spot. He stared without hesitance, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Only then Harry realized what Louis had done, and the anger swept over him. It was burning hot, and it was so strong, too strong to suppress it any longer. For many years Harry had been able to ignore it, fight it back every time it bubbled up. Louis had left him alone. He had chosen to do so and that was even worse. He hadn’t had to leave. It was his choice. It was his choice to leave his best friend the fuck alone when he needed Louis most just so he could save his own sorry ass.

And that anger made him move, made him get up, made him shout at the boy in front of him. “And why did you leave? Why did you fucking leave me if you needed me so much? I loved you, ok? I fucking loved you and I relied on you so much and you goddamn idiot just turned around and left without another fucking word! And then you come back and I trust you, I fucking trust you, and you do it all over again. It wasn’t even my fault that that Eleanor bitch made such a huge fucking scene but you still blamed all that shit on me! And how do you think I could ever fucking be able to forgive you for that, huh? I am not a fucking toy that you can pick up and throw away however you damn like it that moment!”

Harry couldn’t look away from Louis, even if he tried. He looked small and sad, his shoulders scrunched up and his head hanging down low. He was shrinking into himself further and further and he wasn’t even able to look Harry in the face one time.

“So don’t you dare fucking tell me that you care about me. You don’t and you never fucking did and we both know that! And I don’t need that. The only fucking thing you’re right about. I don’t need all those lies that you’re throwing at me every single damn time. So know what? Leave. Get the fuck outta my room right fucking now if you don’t plan on actually staying and not turning me down like the last time I took you back in like the pathetic bastard without a backbone I am.”

By now, Harry was breathing harshly, from the shouting and from that cocktail of emotions rushing through his veins, all the adrenaline from the anger. He finally looked away from Louis and instead sunk down on the windowsill, his eyes staring at the floor without really seeing anything. Now that he was coming to his senses again, he felt his arms throbbing dully. He felt the pain radiating off there in a slow, sweet sensation and he found himself pressing his slightly shaking fingers to the clothed, carefully hidden wounds. Pain made you human, a wise man once said.

Then he looked at Louis again. He was looking on the floor, his head hanging low with his hair falling into his eyes, and his fingers were wringing and twisting themselves in his lap. He was still sitting on the spot he’d settled on in the beginning. Louis didn’t do nothing but breathe and Harry wasn’t sure if that was really a stray tear there on his cheek or if that was just his eyes playing with him. It took a few seconds, but eventually a deep sigh heaved through Louis’ whole body and he got up, his eyes finding Harry’s.

“I can only say how sorry I am, Harry. I am a coward, a huge one at that, and I always have been. But things are changing, I know it. I won’t let you go anymore, and even if I tried, I know I’m not capable of doing so. I don’t want to hurt you more than I already did, I really don’t. I – I want to promise you something: if you take me back, if you forgive me, I won’t let you go again. I will be there for you. But I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I don’t deserve you. So I would understand it if you wouldn’t. I wouldn’t blame you. I don’t think I would take me back, either.”

And Louis stood there in the middle of the room, looking at Harry and not looking at him all the same. He looked lost and scared and so so lonely. Harry didn’t recognize him. That boy, that boy wasn’t the Louis Tomlinson he saw in school every day. This wasn’t the Louis Tomlinson he got to see around his family either. This was the small boy Louis that Harry had to calm down because they had to take his dog to the vet because he was attacked by another dog and now limped. That was the Louis that came crawling to bed with him at night because it was storming outside and he was scared.

It was the most vulnerable Harry had ever seen him and seeing him made it hard to not go to him and do something stupid, like hugging him, holding him close, kissing him, begging him to stay, letting him get beneath his skin once again. But he couldn’t do that, and so he just breathed and slowly but surely drowned in the deep sad blue of those eyes he was staring into, not able to look away, not quite wanting to as well.

And then Louis turned around and left, closing the door quietly behind himself. It had something utterly final to it, and when he went, he took Harry’s heart right with him.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually have no clue why it took me one month to write this bunch of crap. Here you go with another filler, a bit of Harry thoughts and then Harry-Fizz-fluff because I felt like it. Big plans for the next couple of chapters though because .. well, you'll see! I'm sorry for letting you wait this long, I hope I can continue quicker this time!

During the next weeks, Harry’s life was turned upside down only once again.

Louis and Harry still didn’t talk to each other. The silence between them was strained and uncomfortable because there were so many things that had to be said that neither of them could possibly put into words. No, they didn’t talk about what had been said, just licked their wounds and didn’t look at each other like at all. All that didn’t keep them from being with each other though. In the morning Louis would wait for Harry and take him to school, and after school he would drop him off at the hospital instead of leaving him to walk. And he would pick him up as well, two to three hours later, and he would wait for Harry to get into the car with him to take him home.

Maybe that was Louis’ way to apologize to Harry, he didn’t know. He couldn’t say he liked it all too much though. Of course, it was cool that he was picking him up, driving him around and all that – the ways from school to hospital and from hospital home were long walks and the public transport was shit in their corner. But he’d rather that they were talking again. He was grateful, but he hated facing that weird kind of silence that was building high walls and digging deep ditches between them so that they couldn’t reach each other anymore.

He wanted Louis back, he really did. He missed what they’d had before the Eleanor incident – they had been kind of becoming friends again, or at least they had found words to say. But Harry wasn’t able to forgive Louis for what he’d done a month or so ago. He couldn’t just forget about all that and come crawling back to him. He wanted to, he really did, but he needed to be sure that his heart wouldn’t be broken again. He couldn’t make it with another broken heart.

Niall was honestly not helping much either. Harry spent all his afternoons in the hospital. He didn’t like seeing his best friend in the shape he was in. When he tried to play his guitar, his fingers would shake and his grip on the strings would be too light, almost untrained, so that the sounds sounded dull or shrill. The doctors said he was doing ok: he was still keeping in his food, after all. Sometimes he would throw up, but it was only a couple of times for what Maura told Harry. But Niall was pale and tired most of the times, sometimes a bit feverish. Also it didn’t take long for the chemo to get rid of his hair. The beautiful and soft blond locks that Harry loved so much about him thinned out more and more and soon it was to be replaced with a snapback. When Harry said he thought about buzzing his head so Niall and he would be equal, the boy got angry. He didn’t want to be pitied like that.

He got angry a lot these days, Niall. He was pretty emotional. When they were watching a movie, he was likely to cry at the oddest scenes, and when they tried to do homework to keep Niall up to date to his classes and he didn’t get something right instantly, he would get angry, shout at Harry even though it wasn’t his fault. Harry all bore it with a bowed head and calmed Niall down the best he could. Of course it hurt him. That wasn’t the Niall he knew. But sometimes, on the good days, Niall would be back. He would be all smile-y and joke with Harry until they were both in tears from all the laughter. Those were the days Harry lived for, the days that kept him going.

Because he usually hated it there, in the hospital. The halls still reminded him of his mum and his das and his sister and he missed them so fucking much these days. Gemma would’ve known how to behave around Louis, what to do with Niall. And when he was in the room with his best friend, he often enough felt helpless and overwhelmed. He hated to watch Niall getting weaker and weaker from treatment to treatment because it took his Niall away from him. But he couldn’t go. No, he wouldn’t go, he would never leave Niall. Because even when Niall was behaving like a prat most of the time, Harry couldn’t just let him down. He had a promise to keep, a promise that he made to Niall and to Niall’s mum and to himself. He wasn’t Niall’s ex. He would stay, and he would be there for the Irishman and he would help him through that, and if it would kill him. Niall would do the same. Niall was also far more important than Harry himself.

The only thing that was alright – really, really fucking good, ok – was home. Because Harry had a home, he had a family now. So ok, maybe his biological family was dead, and yes, he really missed them, especially now that spring was coming because his mum had loved the spring and it had always been a big thing in their family. But he had found a family of himself now. He was getting along with Jay really good and she treated him like his own son. She looked after him and made sure he was ok, and sometimes she hugged him without another word when it had been especially bad at hospital because she was a mum, she could read her kids without any effort.

Also his sisters kind of loved him and he really loved them. The little twins, Daisy and Phoebe, preferred him babysitting them even over Louis now. They made him play guitar for them and they spent hours singing stupidly cute Disney songs. He would be the father when they played house and he even let them do his hair, even though it mostly ended in a catastrophe. Each night he’d bring them to bed with a kiss to their foreheads after reading them a story. It was tradition now.

Funnily enough, that seemed to be the thing that made Lottie start liking him though. She’d always been a bit reserved, almost cold in Harry’s presence. They were in the same grade and it was hard for her to forget about the stuff that had been said in school and see him. But when the twins had now chosen him as their favorite playmate in the house and she kept an eye on him watchfully, she seemed to realize that Harry wasn’t as bad as most of them thought. Of course they weren’t exactly being best friends. But they were getting along now. She even began to smile at him in the corridors, even though they didn’t talk in school. It was nice.

Harry’s absolute favorite sister was still Fizz though. She was who he was closest with. They spent lots of time together, reading and drawing, making music – she played the piano better than anyone Harry had ever known – and all that stuff. They were kind of like best friends, but also really a lot like siblings. They were cuddling a lot, too. Harry hadn’t thought that he would like it because he was no fan of touching and being touched like at all, but when she’d crawled into bed with him one night claiming she couldn’t sleep, it was ok. She was three years younger, but it felt like she was only a child when she came to search comfort in him.

And he found comfort in that because Fizz he could protect. He could give her advice, he could hold her when she was upset, he could look after her and make sure she was ok in the end. She was someone he could be strong for, and that was the most important thing. She believed in him even though she by now had found out about most of his dirty little secrets. Everybody needed someone who loved him unconditionally in a family way. He had basically found a younger version of Gemma in her, even though comparing the two of them wasn’t what he was doing.

The two of them were different in so many ways, but that never stopped Harry from loving Felicite unconditionally. He adored her because she was calm and lovely and she was just there, even when he mostly wanted to be alone because he couldn’t remember what being with people was like. She was awesome, she really was. He’d always wanted a little sister that most of all saw him as her best friend.

One night she simply stretched out beside him, putting her arms behind her head and staring at the ceiling in the dark. “Do you think you and Louis are ever gonna be friends again?” she asked. That was another thing he usually really liked about her – her directness. She wasn’t afraid of literally anything.

And Harry was never afraid to be honest to her. He trusted her with all he had. “I don’t know” He said quietly. “I – He fucked up pretty bad, but I did, too. We need some time to figure ourselves out.”

“You will have to share at grandma’s in Leeds” Fizz reminded him, and Harry wanted to bury his face in his pillow. He couldn’t believe spring break and the vacation at Jay’s parents were only one month away.

“I know” he said. He didn’t want to think about what would happen there. He had already been there with them once – back when everything was well. They were like, ten or something, and had spent all day with the ponies that they had had back then. They had actually ridden a lot, despite Louis claiming that it wasn’t something boys did. They didn’t care about that too much back then, especially not there. They were living really rural, and the landscape was just really beautiful there and Harry had enjoyed every minute.

Problem: the room Louis slept in had only a double bed. That meant that Harry would have to fucking share a bed with Louis. And that was about the last thing he wanted to do right now. He didn’t want Louis that close; ok, maybe he really, truly did. But he couldn’t admit that, could he? It was a bit insane altogether.

Fizz poked him in the stomach, and Harry was glad he mostly only cut on his thighs these days. “You’re brooding again”

“I’m not brooding”

“Like Derek fucking Hale, Haz. What’s on your mind?”

The thing was that this girl could also read him like a book. “I don’t really wanna go to Leeds” he admitted quietly.

“Why? I think Louis and you can figure your shit out there. It’s always been special for you, hasn’t it?” She looked at him with these bright blue eyes that were so much like her brother’s but also not at all and Harry couldn’t hold her gaze.

He sighed, let his fingers run through his hair. “Yeah. Still – I don’t wanna leave Niall”

“He’ll be ok, you know that” Fizz told him, and Harry knew she was right. Niall was getting better because his body was probably getting weak, but he was also making progress fighting the cancer. He would be let out of the hospital in three weeks tops. But Harry still wanted to be there for him, spend time with him. See if he was ok. He owed him.

“Yeah, but I’d rather I saw him being ok before leaving” He said.

“It’s only two weeks”

Two weeks were a long time for a cancer patient, and both of them knew that. Two weeks could make Niall live, but they could also kill him. Harry decided against pointing it out. So instead, he decided to change the subject. “Do your grandparents still have their farm?” he asked.

“Yeah” Fizz smiled. “They have three dogs now, the chickens, a couple of cats, rabbits, all that stuff. Oh, and they have three horses” You could even see the hearts in her eyes when she mentioned them. “And three ponies – I believe they’re even the ones Louis and you used to ride”

Harry used to love animals, he really did. But still it made him anxious just thinking about returning to the place. Of course Louis grandparents were really awesome, just like his whole family was. But it meant spending time with Louis, facing their problems, and it meant not having anyone there to help him. But he also knew Jay wouldn’t let him stay home. She’d made sure he’d know that – he was a part of this family now, and that meant he would have to participate at the family vacation. He was pretty sure that Louis wasn’t too happy about that either, but the older boy was forced as well.

“Like I said, stop thinking too much”

“Fizz”

“What?”

“Shut up”

“Why should I?”

“Because.”

“No, give me a good reason.”

 _I am afraid_ , Harry thought. _I am afraid because back when I was there, I loved him, and if I return there now, I know I’ll love him again but in a different way and I’ll get my heart broken but I can’t, I’ve barely put it together again._ He didn’t say any of that. “Because you’re annoying and it’s late and we have school tomorrow and you should go to sleep”

“You suck” Fizz said while she got out of his bed. But she smiled, and he knew she didn’t mean it.

“You don’t mean that”

“No I don’t” Fizz stretched and popped her spine and then padded over to the door. “If you and Louis don’t figure your shit out there, I will fucking lock you in a room together until you spoke over whatever has happened and I’ll only let you out if you’re all rainbows and butterflies again and the horses have grown horns.”

“You read too much fanfiction” Harry told her seriously.

Fizz opened the door but turned around to look at him again. “Well, Merthur fics are more interesting than the classical lecture you’re reading”

Harry chuckled. Maybe she was right. “Goodnight Fizzie”

“Night Hazza”

The door closed silently behind the girl and Harry wondered how a fourteen-year-old could be so damn smart.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY this fic is running away with me o_o WHERE DID THIS EVEN COME FROM OH MY FUCKING GOD!?! Also I’m sorry if I’m breaking character here, but I will explain it in a later chapter :)

“Harry, have you seen ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’?” Fizz stuck her head into Harry’s room. To say that that one was a mess would be an overstatement – but only a little. Harry was in the middle of packing his suitcase for Leeds, and he was just the tiniest bit overwhelmed. They would be leaving in two hours already, and he hadn’t even started to pack before because he hadn’t given it much thought these days.

“Yeah, well, _my_ copy is in my bookshelf where it belongs – I didn’t know you had a copy, too?” Harry answered. That level of sass was usually only encountered in a conversation with Louis; but Harry didn’t feel too bad today, and on good days his cheekiness could reach levels that not even Louis could touch.

The past month had wheezed past Harry in a whirl of school, learning, exams, work and Niall. There had been the midterms and Niall had come home and so he hadn’t had too much time these days. That was the reason why his suitcase was a mess, but still mostly empty and he was sure he was missing something _important_.

“Well, screw you, Styles” Fizz simply said. She didn’t bother asking Harry for permission she just danced through the mess on the floor, casually finding the nonexistent tidy spots where she could put her feet and started scanning Harry’s collection of novels on the bookshelf for the title she was looking for.

“Did I allow you to take it?” Harry asked when she pulled it out. He wasn’t mad though – of course she could have that book, he knew she would treat it well and give it back to him. But he loved mocking her, so he did.

“No, but you won’t stop me!” Fizz grinned at him, and when did that girl become such a female replicate of her brother? “Don’t forget to pack your lacy underwear for when you and Louis finally start screwing each other!” she told him, carelessly and innocently throwing it over her shoulder when she waltzed out of the room like she had come in seconds before. Harry was only left to stare open-mouthed after her. His family had gone crazy.

After a second or two of shock he realized what he’d been forgetting all along.

_Boxer shorts!_

 

“So now tell me – how are we going to fit into this car?” Lottie asked Jay something around three hours later. The whole family, including the twins, was standing in front of the family van – that was completely filled with the most different pieces of luggage. Jay scratched her back and shook her head.

“I have literally no idea” She answered her daughter. Only then she turned to Louis, “Would you mind driving there as well?”

Louis looked at his mum in surprise. “You said I couldn’t take Oscar!” His car was named Oscar. Only Louis would call his car Oscar. It still made Harry bite back a smile whenever he heard Louis call that blue piece of rubbish ‘Oscar’. But on the other hand, Oscar was the one in the Sesame Street who lived in a bin, so maybe it wasn’t even that wrong, right?

Lottie didn’t even conceal her snort, and Fizz let out a little giggle as well. Jay just rolled her eyes at her son’s antics. “Well, now you are allowed to do so. I will take the twins and Fizz, and you take Harry and Lottie.”

“But _mum_ ”

“No, Felicite, you are not gonna be in a car with your brother.” The woman said in full mum-mode. “All of us know that won’t end well.”

“Why can’t I take the twins?” Louis asked.

“Yes, we wanna go with Lou!” Daisy chirped up.

Harry stood back and watched. His family was kind of crazy. He loved it.

“No, Louis, we both know you can’t handle them.”

“Mummy!” Phoebe complained.

Jay shook her head. “No, no more discussing. We need to pack Louis’ car now.”

“He’s called Oscar” The boy corrected her.

“Yeah whatever” Jay honestly didn’t give a flying fuck. “Put some stuff over there, Harry. And you, ladies, are going to go to the toilet again now so I don’t have to stop again in twenty minutes. We are _late_.”

 

“Louis, I love you and you know that, but your music sucks” Lottie complained from the backseat when they were finally on the road and halfway over to Leeds.

Harry smirked, turned his head a little more and looked out of the window.

“Let me tell you – The Offspring do not suck!” Louis told his sister.

Lottie just stared at him, showing off bitchface number seven. “They do suck.”

“Your brother’s right, though” Harry said, now craning his neck to look at the blonde in the back. Louis and he didn’t really talk, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have the same opinions and sometimes fought the same fights against their sisters.

Now Lottie looked at him with her eyebrow pulled up like she doubted it. “For real now? This is so yesterday.”

“What would you prefer? The xx?” Louis asked. When Lottie nodded, he snorted. “Fucking shit that I would hear that. Or that Lorde girl – we are not gonna listen to your shit, right. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his piehole.”

“Why thank you” Harry grumbled. Right now he forgot that he wasn’t talking to Louis. It was the heat of the moment – Fizz had managed to make him feel excited about the vacation after all.

“Well, ok – backseat shuts her piehole.” Louis corrected himself. When Harry looked up, he found the other boy looking at him, smiling ever so slightly. Harry smiled back. It was no use, and Fizz had been right after all – they needed to figure their shit out.

Lottie threw her hands up in the air. “Of fucking course!” Then she pointed at her brother. “Just to make sure you know – I despise you”

“Nope you don’t” Louis said, grinning.

“Oh but I do”

“No you don’t” Harry said now, too.

Lottie threw her head back and groaned in exasperation. “I swear to god, could you two please just stop being so – so – oh whatever, but stop it.”

Louis chuckled, and Harry was confused because Louis and he weren’t anything right now.

Were they?

 

Harry found that gran and pop from Leeds hadn’t really changed in the seven-or-something years he hadn’t been here. The moment the two cars arrived on the farm, the two of them were out and saying hello to all of them. They hugged the twins and Fizz and Lottie and Louis all the same, and in the end Harry found himself as well pressed close to Mr. and Mrs. Tomlinson senior.

“It’s so nice seeing you again!” The woman said. She was the perfect picture of a super-cool grandmother. “You’re all grown up now; I wouldn’t have recognized you if Jay hadn’t told me it was you!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Tomlinson” Harry was blushing under all that attention.

“Call me gran, please, dear; you’re a part of the family now!” She invited him, her fingers putting a stray curl out of his eyes. He hadn’t felt that warm and welcome in a while. With Mr. Tomlinson it was just the same – he pulled him close like he was his grandchild as well.

“Great to have you here”

“It’s a pleasure” Harry said, and the moment he said it he knew it was the truth. Of course, he’d hesitated with leaving because of Niall, but now he was there, it wasn’t a question anymore. This was kind of really perfect.

“Haz, you lazy ass, come and help with the luggage!” Lottie shouted from over the car. Harry obliged, smiling at the grandparents a last time before jogging over and helping his family bring their stuff into the small farm house that gran and pop Tomlinson used to rent for people from all over the country and now reserved for them.

 

Harry took his suitcase last, and wanted to follow the path he’d been running with the twin’s stuff and Jay’s stuff all the times before, but Louis’ voice from upstairs stopped him.

“Come up here” he said. The thing was that because they were this many, Louis had a little flat all to him – only a living room with a small couch and a build-in kitchen, a bath and a bedroom, nothing much. But enough for two people. “Or are you gonna ignore me and sleep on the couch downstairs in the end?”

Harry looked at Louis for a long moment. His cheeks were the least bit flushed and his hair was ruffled. He allowed himself another shy little smile – he was feeling especially confident today because it was an awesome day after all.

Louis smiled right back. He stepped aside to let Harry in, and ushered him into the bedroom when the younger boy hesitated. “I tried telling mum that us sharing wasn’t that much of a good idea, but she wouldn’t have it.”

“I don’t really mind” Harry admitted in the end. It was no use anymore. He’d been ignoring and not-talking to Louis for over one month now, and it hadn’t changed anything. He put down his suitcase by the foot of the bed and let the guitar case drop on the mattress. Only then he looked at the other boy again.

“I need to tell you something.” He said.

Louis nodded, leaning in the doorframe.

“The thing is, I’m not sure I can ever forget what has happened in the past years. But you’re trying, I know, and – I kind of really miss you, you know? So here’s my deal: I’m willing to try, but only if you’re sure about this. Do you think we can sort this out?”

Louis smiled, and Harry knew the answer before Louis breathed out a “Yes”. This day honestly couldn’t get any better. It made Harry wanting to dance around the room and sing on the top of his lungs or something similarly embarrassing. He only smiled back though. They weren’t that far yet.

“Wanna go visit the horses?” Louis asked, and Harry didn’t hesitate to follow him this time.

 

Jay’s parents had three ponies and three horses standing on a meadow with a shelter/dugout/whatever close to the main house. There were two Shetland pony geldings – a chestnut one called Paul and a chestnut spotted one called Snoopy. Then a welsh cob mare from a pretty bucksin dappled color called Vinnie and a Haflinger mare called Emma – and Emma was already considered a horse because she was from the older, heavier kind of Haflinger, while Vinnie was still a pony, even though she was almost as tall as Emma.

And then the two horses that were something like the most colorful mix to be found in Great Britain. They were both tall and somewhat lanky but also not lanky at all, a brown tobiano mare called Shaira and a roan colored gelding called Don. Louis told Harry everything he knew about them and you could tell just from the way he was looking that he loved them. Harry stopped a second just to watch Louis and smile because that was how he liked to remember Louis. This was how the other boy used to be.

“So, you wanna ride?” Louis asked Harry in the end, grinning from ear to ear.

Harry stopped. “Uh – I dunno if I can” he admitted. Last time he sat on a horse – well, a pony; Snoopy, to be honest – had been years ago.

Louis laughed. “Come on, they are all really calm and nice and you don’t have to fear anything. You can take Don – he’s like a big bony teddy bear!”

 

He didn’t mention that his back was as high as Harry’s forehead though.

“This won’t end well!” Harry told Louis, Lottie and Fizz – the girls had joined them five minutes later when they had taken Emma and Don and started brushing them, taking Vinnie and Shaira like it was the most normal thing to do. They had just saddled them and Louis somehow had proceeded to get a helmet for each of them and now they were ought to sit up. Harry just stared at the tall gelding standing next to him completely chilled.

Lottie laughed at him, jumping up onto Shaira’s back. “He’s tall, but he’s also the calmest horse on this barn. So get the fuck on him already, we don’t have all day!” she said, keeping the tall mare in place easily.

Louis sighed and let go of Emma’s reins – the mare just stayed where she was, watching the scene in front of her interestedly. Her rider stepped over to Harry and looked him right in the eye. “When you’re afraid, we can just stay here” he said lowly, so Fizz wouldn’t hear them.

Harry saw how much he wanted it though, could see it flickering in the blue of his eyes. He took a deep breath. “We’re gonna take it slow. And you hold him while I try to climb that mountain of a horse.” He said. Louis grinned and took a hold of the reins. Harry put one foot in the step, prepared himself and then swinged himself up on Don’s back.

This was really a lot too high. He had to do that now, though, couldn’t back out of it. So he took up the reins in the way he remembered to be right, and when he shot Fizz a nervous look, she smiled and nodded, telling him he was doing it right wordlessly.

Louis got on Emma without a problem. “Ok, let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry if I’m saying anything of this horse-stuff wrong - I have a bit of experience with horses and I love them but I never know how to put it into actual English language that also makes sense to not-German people :D so if I got anything wrong, please tell me! Also, here I have pictures for all of the horses: [Snoopy](http://www.equine-photo.net/uploads/g_photos/21_1341673171.16.jpg), [Paul](http://www.equine-photo.net/uploads/g_photos/21_1341673171.59.jpg), [Vinnie](http://www.tigra.whshost.com/images/igallery/resized/1701-1800/22-1743-750-750-80.jpg), [Emma](http://www.horses.pnet.pl/index.php?option=com_joomgallery&func=watermark&id=3524&catid=6&orig=0&no_html=1&Itemid=6), [Don](http://www.tigra.whshost.com/images/igallery/resized/1601-1700/54-1693-750-750-80.jpg), [Shaira](http://www.gosiamakosa.com/images/carpatica/g.jpg). Credit to the owners!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry for not updating earlier o.o but there's been a lot of private shit going on these past weeks and I bet you couldn't find the energy to write either if a person you love dearly dies ... Well, but here you all go, I hope you like it :) again - I know the break in Harry's character is like huge, but next chapter I'll explain just what is going on with our boy ^^ so far, enjoy this one, I hope I can update quicklier this time :)

“I will kill you” Harry informed Louis about twenty minutes after they’d taken of. He sat on Don and he couldn’t quite relax in the saddle. “I will kill you in your sleep and you can’t do anything about it.”

Louis just laughed at him. “You’re doing good, I don’t know what your problem is.” He was riding Emma with hanging reins, completely chilled on her back. Harry could understand that. Emma was cute and calm and not stumbling and idiotic like Don. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the horse – no really, the gelding was awesome. Except he was stumbling just a little bit too often and that wasn’t all too awesome.

“My problem is that he doesn’t know where to put his feet, goddamn” Harry cursed when Don almost fell over a root again. The girls had taken off a couple of minutes ago because their riding skills were a lot better than both Louis’ and Harry’s and they just wanted to go quick and now because the riding tracks in the forest close to the farm were just like perfect for little races and all that.

“We can swap horses” Louis offered him.

“No, I’m gonna do this” Harry took a deep breath and shot Louis a quick smile. “Can we try a trot? I mean, you can go in front of me and then ..”

“Yeah ok” Louis smiled right back, ruffling Emma’s mane another time and then taking up the reins. The mare instantly responded to that and went a bit quicker, in front of the taller gelding. “Just lean back a bit and try to go with the flow .. You can think about rising later”

Harry nodded. “Ok, then let’s go” Louis quickened Emma, hurried her into a trot. Harry pushed his heels into Don’s flanks until he fell into a trot as well. And then everything came natural, because the gelding barely trotted at all and he was like slow and comfortable and he didn’t stumble anymore. Harry couldn’t help but grin. It was a bit like flying. He started rising with Don’s steps and urged him on just a little bit more so he went about Emma’s tempo, not slow like before.

Louis threw a gaze over his shoulder. “Faster?”

“Faster” Harry answered without hesitation. Now his body could remember what it was like. And that horse beneath him that he’d been so uncomfortable with in step was the best fucking animal in the world to him in that moment. And when the Haflinger fell into a gallop, Harry let Don gallop, too, and they let the horses run side by side, laughing with the wind in their faces and sun shining through the trees. That moment, that was happiness.

It was a bit like flying. They weren’t even going that quick, but it still felt like it. It was probably a bit dangerous to let Harry go this fast this early, but neither of them cared in that moment; it felt good to ride like this. Harry had the feeling that only in this moment spring break began and he escaped the reality back in Doncaster only then, not earlier when they arrived on the farm. It was like a weight was lifted from his chest he hadn’t known been there.

They let the horses run until the way got too small for two horses to run side by side, and only then they slowed them down into a step. The horses and boys were out of breath alike, only that Emma and Don broke into sweat and Harry and Louis broke into giggles. They shot gazes at each other, laughing happily.

Louis took the lead again, Emma’s reins slipping from his fingers so the mare could stretch her neck and let her head hang. Both of them were completely calm and relaxed. “God I missed this”

Harry wasn’t sure what Louis meant. Of course he could only mean the riding. It was one thing to drive a car or go by bike, but riding was definitely different. It was an amazing feeling to have a horse between your legs and to just like that feel it moving. Louis wasn’t doing it at home, as far as Harry knew he’d only ever ridden a horse here at his grandparents’. So he could mean this.

But he could also mean Harry and Louis, couldn’t he? It had been a long time since they had been like this. Of course, before that thing with Eleanor, they had been getting along better already, but that had been different. They had been careful around each other and there had been things unspoken that had formed a wall between them that they couldn’t climb. But now, this was what they had been all those years ago. This was what they have always been. What they should’ve been. And Harry loved it, loved it even more than he’d missed it.

And god, he’d missed it. He missed laughing with Louis and joking with him. He missed just being with him and knowing what he wanted to say with just a look. This was comfortable, this was home, this was where he belonged. So yeah, he’d missed it. “Me, too” Harry answered in the end, his eyes scanning the landscape around them. They were about to leave the forest, and you could see miles and miles of fields and farms in front of them.

Louis was silent for a long moment. Only when they left the shadows of the forest and were bathed in the golden spring sunlight he spoke up. “I don’t just mean the riding and stuff.” Louis admitted silently. Harry could see him blushing. “I mean you and me, us. This.”

Now the riding path was over and they turned right on a dirt track where the horses fit side by side again. Harry let Don speed up a little so he could fit in on Emma’s side. Louis looked up at Harry, gave him a small and nervous smile.

“I guess I gotta tell you tell you some stuff. I owe you a couple explanations.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, you do” Because maybe it had felt like there weren’t unsaid things, Harry knew there still were. There was a long way to go, and this was the first step they had to take. He wouldn’t keep in his words anymore, not now and not ever. He would be honest with Louis and honest with everyone. The time of wordlessness was over.

“I – could you let me speak first?” Louis asked. “I mean I know what I want to say but I’m not sure I’ll get it right if you, like, interrupt me. I don’t wanna be rude I just –“

“Ok” Harry smiled when he interjected in Louis’ rambling. It was cute. “Just get it out.”

Louis looked ahead and took a few deep breaths. His fingers were fiddling with the reins – not that Emma minded. A few seconds passed, but then he talked.

“See, I … no, different. In my life, I had two things I loved with everything I had. I mean, besides my family. You, and football. I grew up with both of you and when we were kids, I never thought I had to choose. I always knew that sports was the only way for me to make something out of my life. I was never that intelligent and I didn’t have awesome talents like writing or talking or literally just whatever. There was nothing special about me ever. Except when I played football. It’s my only talent, and the only thing that could make me have a fulfilled life.

That’s why I decided it was more important than you. I was so caught up in trying to get better, trying to get a place on the team that I didn’t think I would need you. You had always been there, we were always together – how could I know that I wasn’t functioning right without you? I was very young and very foolish and so caught up in myself, and when I realized that I was indeed nothing without you I didn’t want it to be true. You couldn’t be that big a part of myself.

So I kept you away. I hurt you badly because I was an ignorant idiot. I had to prove myself that I didn’t need you and in that process I hurt you so bad. I broke you, and I only realized it when it was too late. And I couldn’t take everything back because I ruined it, and also because I’m a stubborn prat who thinks changing his mind is weakness. Somehow I managed to live without you, but I honestly can’t remember how. I found a way, that’s what counts. Or not.

Because then you came back and you were around me all the time and how could I stand it? Suddenly all the stuff I had felt before, I had pushed so far away, it came all crashing down again. And I had to realize that all these things the boys had teased me about were suddenly true, you know? I couldn’t look at girls, couldn’t look at my own girlfriend, yet alone be with her. I was so angry at myself and I – I needed to blame someone, so I blamed you. I can’t tell you often enough just how sorry I am.

And I didn’t want it to be true, but then I found out about your – your cutting. And I realized I could lose you at any moment, and I couldn’t stand that. I couldn’t bear losing you. At first, it terrified me. It terrified me what it meant. But then I understood that it didn’t matter. I don’t care anymore what the others would think if they knew. You’re what’s important. You’re better than those people, better than football. And if you let me, I want to show you just how much I mean that.”

Harry was – he didn’t know what he was. He was surprised. No, shocked, more of. He couldn’t really tell. Did Louis really care about him like that? Did he – did he just admit that he was gay, and that he had a crush on Harry, or did Harry get that wrong? All of this was a big fucking joke. It had to be! People like Louis didn’t like people like Harry. And even if they did, Louis wasn’t gay!

Right?

So most of all, Harry was dumbstruck and really confused. He stared at Louis with an open mouth, his wide green eyes blinking rapidly. “What are you – what?” He stammered in the and. He was pretty sure that if they were walking, he would be frozen to the spot right now, because he forgot for a second how all his limbs worked. So he was pretty thankful for Don’s bumpy step for once.

Louis was uncertain, and his face was flushed deep red and he was looking quite adorable, Harry registered in one corner of his short-circulating mind. His Louis had also lost all his confidence when it became serious. “I – uhm – if you’re like, not into me, or like not even gay or something, that’s – that’s cool, I mean – I can live with just being friends with you. But I – I want to try it, being with you and all, if you give me the chance.”

That was when Harry would totally embarrassed himself if he wasn’t already sitting on a horse that was moving for him. He couldn’t quite grasp it. Louis wanted to be with him? He wanted – he wanted him? For a second, he was completely silent. Then the anger came. How could he dare? How could he treat Harry like shit for years and break his heart over and over again and then just come and say sorry and expect Harry to admit his love for him?

“Are you serious?” Harry asked him, enraged. “Are you fucking serious? You ignore me for _weeks_ and we don’t talk one word, and then when we finally get our shit together and make up, you want to date me?”

At first, Louis looked sheepish, ducked his head down. “I’m sorry, I – nevermind.” And then, obviously, he got pissed. “Let’s just go home.” His voice was different again, short and clipped, just like when Harry first moved in at the Tomlinsons’ half a year ago. Harry couldn’t help but feel guilty instantly. He didn’t want it to end like this. Why couldn’t he watch his mouth? His stupid, stupid mouth. Why couldn’t he just accept what Louis was saying?

“Louis –“

But Louis only turned Emma right, back into the forest, and pressed his feet into her sides until the Haflinger fell into a quick trot. Harry didn’t have to be an expert of the surroundings, he knew that the path would lead them right back home. He hurried Don to follow the mare, but he didn’t dare speak up again. They were silent all the way home, and it wasn’t the comfortable, companionable silence like before. Harry could tell he’d upset Louis, and he wanted to make it right. But he couldn’t right now and he knew that as well, so he just took the time to collect his thoughts. He wanted to get it right.

He remembered something Niall had said to him when he said goodbye to him yesterday. _“You’re arse over tits for him – go get him, tiger!”_ And the thing was, he’d been right. Harry adored Louis for so many things he’d done throughout the time. It was probably wrong after all that had happened between them, but Harry couldn’t help himself. He wanted Louis, and he wanted him to stay true to his word. He only had to make Louis realize that.

They reached the farm after like fifteen minutes of quick trotting, one sharp gallop and basically no step. Don was completely exhausted, and Harry pitied the gelding. He’d done really well that day. When they stopped on the farm, Louis instantly jumped off Emma and Harry clambered after him quickly. The other boy already wanted to storm off, but Harry managed to catch his wrist, hold him back.

“Louis” he said softly.

Said boy swirled around, glared at Harry. “What?” he snapped.

“I – “ Harry took a deep breath but didn’t remove his hand. He wouldn’t let himself be intimidated by Louis’ anger. “I have no experience with this whatsoever. Like really, none at all. I don’t know what it’s like to be in a relationship and I don’t know in what situation you’re caught up in. But I think – no I’m really sure I want to try.”

For a second, Louis didn’t react at all; he didn’t even blink. Harry could see how the wires in his brain where moving while he was trying to understand what Harry had said. Then, piece by piece, his muscles relaxed and a grin spread over his face. “Don’t worry” He said and wriggled in Harry’s touch until he could lace their fingers together almost shyly. “I’ll show you” And then he pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him, hugging him tightly.

Harry clung to Louis just as tight. He knew it was probably insane, but he couldn’t find a reason to not do this right now. Well, he could. But he didn’t want to not do it. “Thank you” he murmured.

He could feel Louis’ grin against his shoulder. “I won’t disappoint you again” he promised.

Harry believed Louis.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I've come to update this fic. I am SO SORRY that you had to wait this long again, but there was so much going on in my life! I had a paper to write (thirteen fucking pages) and exams to study for, also lots of stuff going on with my friends and all that ... but yeah whatever, you learn about Harry's character change of the past couple chapters now! I hope you all like the progress of this fic - and if I got any details wrong, please tell me so I can change them! Last but not least, I just want to say I love you all, thanks for staying and being patient with me!

Harry didn’t quite know how it happened, but that first morning he woke up with Louis Tomlinson’s warm body draped all over him.

The rest of the first day they had mostly done nothing, played with the girls and helped grandma Tomlinson prepare dinner, stuff like that. They stayed up late with the adults, listening to their stories and laughing with them. Harry hadn’t had that much fun in a while, and he surely hadn’t felt that at home in a long time. The Tomlinsons really were his family now, for real. They weren’t just his foster family, they were his very own folks now and they treated him like that as well.

Going to bed had only been a little bit awkward. When they finally went to bed, Louis had taken his clothes and went to change in the bathroom, leaving Harry to slip into his pajamas in their bedroom. When Louis came out, Harry went to go through his usual evening ritual, and when he came back into the room, Louis was already in bed, looking sleepy and cuddly and just generally very adorable.

Harry had slid in on his side of the bed, and they had just like that turned off the lights, whispered their goodnights and fallen asleep. There was no late night talking and giggling like there had been before when they had sleepovers, but Harry reckoned it was because they were both exhausted – it had been a damn long day.

Anyways, the next morning. Harry slid back into consciousness slowly, in that way one only woke up if there was nothing waiting to be done that day. He had no rush in regaining control of his limbs. But when he was aware enough to actually feel his body and blink, he couldn’t help but be surprised: Louis was lying half atop of him, their limbs entangled, their arms wrapped around each other.

When they were kids, they had slept in the same bed many times. But they had always stayed at their respective sides, never ever waking up cuddling or whatever they were doing now. But Harry wasn’t just imagining it. Louis’ nose was buried in the hollow between Harry’s shoulder and neck, his fingers tangled with the soft curls in Harry’s neck limply. The most surprising thing was that Harry was actually comfortable like this. He felt warm and secure, and he wouldn’t mind cuddling with Louis like that a while longer – a long while longer. It was really fucking amazing, even though he could barely move beneath Louis’ dead weight.

And exactly that was the problem. It was a problem because Harry, while he wanted nothing more than to stay there with Louis and actually feel loved and wanted for once, had to get up urgently. He didn’t really need to pee, that was not it. But as he’d experienced so many times in the past couple days, he could feel the control over his mind and his feelings slipping away from him. He only had to glance at the clock in the corner to know he wasn’t only imagining this either: it was about time for his little happy-makers, as he’d started calling them in his mind.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry started inching away from the boy in bed with him. He wanted to run and rush, but he also didn’t want to wake Louis. He needed his sleep and he shouldn’t know what Harry was doing. No, really – Harry didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Louis found out. So when Louis stirred, Harry froze, holding his breath. But Louis only turned away from him, wrapping his warm, strong limbs around the pillows instead, murmuring happily below his breath.

It was so cute it even brought a little smile to Harry’s lips. He allowed himself a second to just look at the other boy. His hair was all ruffled and soft, his skin slightly flushed and tanned, looking really soft as well, and his features were calm and relaxed, peaceful. He knew he could watch Louis like this all day: he couldn’t really progress that this was supposed to be his now. It was insane, but it was also the best thing that had ever happened to him. Louis was the best that had ever happened to him.

Harry didn’t have the time for these musings now though. He quietly swung his legs off the side of the mattress and got up, wearing too big sweatpants and a worn-out sweater that he usually slept in. Barefoot, he padded over to the bathroom, silently and very careful not to wake Louis. When he got in, he didn’t lock the door – it would only take him a minute, and Louis still was fast asleep, so he didn’t need to do that. Nobody would come and barge in on him.

The boy quickly had a wee and even washed his hands before looking through his stuff. He was trying to stay silent, but he was also in a rush to find the small box he was looking for. His body started to complain, he could feel it all coming up again, escalating. He needed relief now, and not getting it instantly made his heart rate speed up. Only when his bony fingers closed around his small private stack of pills, he could let out the tense breath he’d been holding.

His fingers might be calm, but his mind was racing, and that was why his movements were clumsy and unsteady when he fumbled it open. Harry felt the darkness closing in around him, the chill that came with it climbing up his spine, numbing his mind. He started to forget about the happiness of yesterday, of waking up this morning without a care in the world. He could feel it coming back to him like an old friend.

Only he didn’t want that old friend there with him, never again. Harry quickly took out two small round pills and threw them in his mouth, head tilted back, swallowing them down without any water. Only when he lowered his head again, fingers coming up to comb through his hair while his other hand clicked the box shut again, he noticed Louis in the doorway, seeing his reflection in the mirror.

Harry’s heart jumped in surprise, and his breath left his lungs in a rush. “Louis” He turned around quickly, looking at the other boy. This would not be ending well, he could already tell just from looking at him.

“What the _actual fuck_ is going on? Are you on drugs?!” Louis demanded to know. He sounded pissed, really fucking angry, but also devastated. Harry could see his mind racing, his brain drawing all the wrong conclusions. This was going down the drain quickly, too quickly.

“Let me explain” Harry pleaded quickly, eyes wide and fearful. He took a step closer to Louis. He didn’t want to fuck this up. “Please stay calm and let me explain. I will tell you everything, alright?”

Louis looked skeptical, and not like he was calming down at all. “That better is a good explanation, Harry” he said gruffly, but he still retreated into the bedroom, sitting down on the bed. Harry sat down beside him, staring at his fingers kneading themselves while he tried to organize his thoughts. He could feel the tension radiating off Louis, but he also could feel the effects of the pills he’d just thrown him, calming him down, making his mind clear out and brighten.

“The thing is you’re not the only one who found out about my cutting.”

 

_When Harry thought about the day almost exactly a week ago, it felt as vivid as if he was just living it right now. He was just calmly laying on his bed, reading his copy of Looking For Alaska for what felt like the thousandth time, when suddenly the door opened. The thing was that in the Tomlinson household, nobody just came into his room without knocking except something was really fucked up, and so he instantly sat up, closed the book without looking at the page number to remember it later._

_Jay came into his room. Her face was schooled into a calm mask, but Harry could see the tenseness of her body; it revealed that he was much angrier than she wanted to show that moment. She closed the door firmly behind her, and when she turned around to look at Harry, the boy saw the gray hoodie her fingers were clutching tightly._

_And of course he recognized the piece of clothing. He also knew what was up with it right away, knew what was coming next. And it wouldn’t be a good thing. He could feel the panic rising inside him, the blank fear closing up his throat. He had fucked up big time._

_“Can I sit down?” Jay asked. Her voice would have sounded calm to everyone who didn’t know her, but to Harry, it sounded steely cold._

_Harry nodded. His fingers were shaking, holding onto the book in his lap so hard his knuckles turned white. He stayed wordless, even though he already wanted to defend himself._

_Jay perched down at the edge of the bed, and she was moving carefully, like a wrong move, a too quick move would scare Harry off. Maybe she was right with that. Maybe that would happen if she moved quicker. “I found something, Harry. I found something and it worries me. I wanted to leave you be, give you space, but you’re kind of my own son now, too, and I took responsibility for you, so I can’t not do it. I couldn’t lose you, darling, I hope you know that.”_

_Harry nodded again, but his eyes were glued to the gray fabric in Jay’s lap. He could feel the tears dwelling up in his eyes._

_“Could you show me your arms then, please?” She asked softly, and Harry couldn’t help but feel guilty because of the hurt in her voice._

_Only then he spoke up, his voice soft and shaking ever so slightly. “There’s no use denying, is there?” He muttered, even though he already knew the answer._

_Jay’s fingers gently touched his hand for a second, and his muscles instantly relaxed under her touch. “Your mum told me about your sister, back when” She admitted, her voice a calming murmur. There was no anger left inside it, only concern. “I know how this ended. I don’t want this to end like that as well.”_

_That was enough to make Harry shrug off the black cardigan he was wearing that day. Inch by inch, he slowly revealed the countless cuts and scars on his arms to the woman that had become his mum without him noticing it. He watched her even though he didn’t want to see the pain on her face, his face red with embarrassment and tears blurring his vision. The way Jay looked – shocked, devastated, disbelieving, but also worried and scared -, he had seen this look before. He’d seen it on his mum’s face when she had found out about Gemma’s cutting. It felt like a lifetime ago now._

_“Oh baby” Jay murmured, and it almost sounded like a sob. “Come here, come on” And she hugged Harry tightly, held him close for a long time. He clutched onto her just as tight, buried his face in her shoulder. In that moment he was just a small, frightened child holding onto his mother._

_The next day, they went to see a therapist together. Harry didn’t want to: he didn’t see any sense behind it. The doctors couldn’t change anything about his fucked up status anyways, so why should they pay that ridiculous amount of money for their treatment? He didn’t want any help, not from them. He didn’t need their help, either._

_Except he totally did. They ran a couple of tests with him, nothing world-changing, and then they diagnosed him with severe clinical depression, an anxiety disorder and slight bipolar tendencies. If he thought about it now, they would probably have found even more if it wasn’t for the Tomlinsons. They prescribed him some medication, nothing too strong, but enough to clear his head, to make it easier._

_They gave him his little happy-makers, and that was only because Jay cared about him enough to drag him to a doctor. He would forever be thankful, he would forever owe her because of that._

 

After Harry had finished his story, Louis stayed still for long seconds that made Harry anxious, until he finally asked, “So this was your medicine?”

Harry nodded. “I’ve been on them for five days now.”

Louis rubbed his fingers over his face. “And I thought you were taking drugs.” He looked at Harry with his bright blue eyes, and he looked like he was blaming himself. “Sorry ‘bout that”

Harry smiled softly, and only when he realized that he could actually do that now, he lifted his hand and let his fingers run through Louis’ soft locks. “It’s ok, I would’ve probably done the same.” He said.

Louis smiled right back at him and leaned into the touch, closer to Harry. “How about we go back to bed now? It’s too early to stay up” he suggested, stifling a yawn.

Harry chuckled. “It’s past eight already.”

“See? Much too early” Louis replied, and they both laughed together.

“Ok” Harry said. “I won’t complain about an hour or two more sleep”

And when they slid in under the covers again, they regained the position that Harry had woken up to without another word. Harry had found a home and he had found happiness, and it wasn’t only due to his happy-makers anymore.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve finally come around to update again, yay! It’s been a busy week and I haven’t been feeling much like writing more 1D .. BUT here you go my lovelies! Just some Larry fluff really. Feedback is appreciated ;)

Chapter 28

Louis was curled around Harry in a manner that could only be described as protective. He had both arms wrapped around Harry, one hand resting on his back, the other gently playing with the soft brown curls in the nape of the younger boy’s neck. His head rested on top of Harry’s, and he was just slightly tilted to the side so his body blocked the straight way between the door and the boy.

Harry couldn’t be more comfortable. He had his nose pressed into the nape of Louis’ neck, breathing the scent that was foreign to him but also so utterly familiar; beneath the newer, more mature scents he could actually still smell the Louis-scent he used to love to drown in back when they were nothing more than just two kids believing in forever. And right now, Harry could imagine starting to believe in forever again.

He had Louis back. Could you believe it? They were lying in bed, a couple hours after Harry had gotten up and Louis had found out, and they were good. There was no bad blood between them. They maybe had to start almost from zero again, and of course Harry knew that there was a long way to go. They couldn’t just hide on this farm forever, in this bed, where nobody would judge them and they could be who they are. Harry knew that when they would return to school, it would get tough. But he also believed they could do it. He wouldn’t let Louis go again. He would fight for him, for them, for what they had.

“Haz” Louis murmured, shifted a bit so his lips brushed against Harry’s ear when he spoke. “What are you thinking about?”

Harry shifted as well so he could see Louis’ face properly. They were so close he could count his eyelashes and see the tiny dust of freckles over his nose. “Nothing, really” He answered, a small smile on his lips.

“Liar” Louis gave back, but his voice didn’t have any edge to it. “I could hear the wheels turning in your brain. What is it?”

Harry’s fingers ghosted over Louis’ collarbone absentmindedly. “Just stuff, good stuff. Don’t worry about it” That was another reason why he wouldn’t let Louis go: Louis got him. It’d been years, but Louis still got him like he used to back then.

Louis slightly shook his head. “You’re weird, did you know that?” A smile was tugging on his lips, soft and crooked, making his eyes sparkle beautifully.

“Says the boy who won’t admit listening to Amy Winehouse because it’s too girly” Harry shot right back. A grin was spreading over his features, matching Louis’.

“Oh shut up” Louis blushed, ever so slightly. Harry had the odd urge to kiss Louis – just to see what reaction he could draw from him then. His fingers wandered up the side of Louis’ neck until he reached his hair. He lightly started playing with the light brown curls. All the while their eyes never left each other. Their gazes stayed locked while their fingers explored new territories, pale skin and soft hair. It was innocent, just fingertips mapping out shoulders and faces.

Usually, Harry didn’t like this kind of touches. They were too gentle, too intimate. He knew he wasn’t pretty, actually he was far from it, and it made him sick when other people touched him with love. He didn’t think he deserved that love, he didn’t deserve any of it. It all felt fake, like they were just mocking him with these moves.

But as he laid there with Louis, he was ok with his fingers sliding over his face and through his hair. Louis looked at him like he really did love him, he looked at him like Harry was something special to him. And Harry found himself believing the boy. Louis had a heart, a big heart actually, and Harry was in it. The boy felt it in every touch the older gave him, and it made him feel better. He accepted them, drowned in them until it was only Louis and him and there was nothing else in his world.

“Harry” Louis finally murmured. Harry didn’t know how long it had been since they’d stopped speaking. It didn’t matter. “Can I kiss you now?”

Instantly, Harry’s pulse quickened. He had waited for this moment a while now, had wondered for a long time what it would be like. He had known that it was approaching fast now, but he would have never dreamed that it was coming this quickly. But he was ready, yes he was. He nodded, a quick yet somehow shy movement of his head.

Louis’ hand moved to cup Harry’s cheek now and another soft smile played on the corners of his lips. They were so close that their breaths were already mingling, stroking over their lips. Harry’s were slightly open, and Louis’ were too when he leaned in even closer, their noses brushing. Harry’s eyes slipped closed when the face of the other boy finally went out of focus, and not a second later he felt another pair of lips on his own.

Louis’ lips were soft and dry when they pressed against Harry’s slightly chapped ones. That was about it about their first kiss – just dry lips pressing against each other innocently, not even moving all that much. It was pure, calm, and almost child-like. Yet Harry experienced it as worldchanging. Of course, there were no fireworks going off and nobody was cheering at them or literally anything. But there might as well just have been. Harry’s heart jumped and in that moment, all his dreams came true.

His hand found Louis’ waist and he pulled him impossibly closer until there was no space left between their bodies. Louis tilted his head a little and their lips started moving against each other, sharing small kisses and bigger ones. Louis’ hand slipped into Harry’s hair, and right there in that moment, Harry was caught in utter exhilaration. This was by far the best kiss he’d ever had. Not that he’d had many, but this was awesome. It was so much better than he’d ever expected it to be, and he honestly never wanted it to end.

Just like the two boys had been sinking into sharing touches earlier, now they sunk into sharing kisses. Nothing mattered outside of this bed, nothing mattered at all except for the way the other one smelled and tasted, reacted to a certain kind of movement. Harry was inexperienced, yeah, but Louis was a good teacher and patient with the younger boy. They took their time and lost count of how long they’d been there.

Still eventually the need for air became too strong and they had to break apart. Louis didn’t let Harry back off though, keeping his fingers at the back of his head and pressing their foreheads together. Harry kept his eyes closed to enjoy the feeling of the moment. His heart was hammering in his chest and the pace of his breathing was increased, but he was happy. There was a beautiful boy in bed with him who apparently really loved him, and they had made out so carefully and slowly and perfectly.

The love for Louis had been in Harry all along – it had never left, it had always been there. He couldn’t remember a time where he didn’t feel like he was in love with the boy. Even when he was bullied by him, when he didn’t recognize the new Louis that was now waltzing through the school hallways, the love for the one he used to know had never left. It was a part of him just like Louis was – through the good and the tough days.

And in that moment in which they were just laying there, much too close and still out of breath, Harry was overwhelmed by it. In a good way, of course. He adored Louis in every single way possible, and now he was finally allowed to do so. He was allowed to touch the boy, smile at him stupidly, kiss him. All these things that he’d wanted to do since he’d been just a kind were things he could do now. This perfect being of Louis William Tomlinson was his now, he wouldn’t have to share him anymore.

A bright smile laid on Harry’s features when he reopened his eyes. He found Louis already staring at him, matching his smile. “You’re thinking again” Louis acknowledged.

Harry chuckled. “Only about you, Lou.” His thumb stroked over Louis’ cheek, following the bow of his cheekbone. “Don’t worry about me.”

Louis pressed another small kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth. “You’re so gorgeous” he whispered. “How did I deserve you?” And Harry was a bit surprised at that. He had wondered exactly the same – with the difference that he actually had a right to think like that.

“I was just asking myself the same” He admitted, still a small smile on his lips.

Louis shook his head. The smile never left his face. “You’re too good for me, really.”

“Am not” Harry gave back. “You’re beautiful and hot and popular and talented and confident and smart and pretty and I’m just –“

“Don’t say that” Louis interrupted him. “You’re the gorgeous one. Have you seen yourself? And you’re so damn talented. You can draw better than Van Gogh, for god’s sake. And you’re so strong. I’m only some arrogant asshole. But you –“ Louis sighed, nudged his nose against Harry’s, deep in thought. “You’re you and I don’t deserve you. But really, I couldn’t care less. I’ll give my best to be enough for you, I’m not letting you go ever, and I will make up to you for all the things that I did.”

Harry smiled and kissed Louis again, sweetly. “See? That’s what I mean. You’re a good person, Lou, and I’m glad we’ve finally come to terms.”

Louis smiled. “Sap”

Harry laughed and wanted to give back some other creative insult, but he was interrupted once more by Louis – his lips, this time. They kissed again, just that it was playful this time and a little bit more daring from both sides. Harry smiled into the kiss and so did Louis, insecurities forgotten and only happiness left. If this was what Harry would have to live with for the rest of his life, he really wouldn’t complain.

“You know” Louis said when they broke apart once more. “We should probably get up. It’s like, almost eleven.”

“Whoops” Harry giggled and then cuddled back into Louis’ chest. “Can’t we just stay in bed all day?”

Louis laughed, his fingers carding through Harry’s hair. “But it’s a beautiful day and I bet they have something planned for us. The girls would be so disappointed if their favorite brother wasn’t with them.”

“So what? You can go and I can stay here” Harry suggested, grinning.

“I meant you, idiot” Louis laughed, swatting Harry’s arm lightly. He was nothing like the boy Harry had had to move in a few months prior. “They all love you like hell, it’s insane.”

Harry looked up again. “Well, they’re not the only ones” There was a smirk on his lips.

Louis blushed slightly, but didn’t disagree. “So what, are you getting up now or what?”

Harry grumbled, pouting slightly. “Only if you kiss me again.”

“I think we can manage that” And he bowed his head and pressed another long kiss on Harry’s mouth. It was another damn good kiss. Really, Louis was a great kisser – and Harry would rather not think about how the boy had come to that skill.

“Soooo shower” Louis swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Do you want to go first?”

Harry looked at him. “You would really let me go first? There’s the possibility I could use all the hot water before you get any of it.”

Louis shrugged before grinning like the sap he really was. “Everything for you, darling!”

“Dumbass” Harry laughed. Still, he got up first and started collecting the things he would need for his shower. He would not shower cold because Louis needed to long, that much was for sure. When he was about to close the door, Louis called out for him.

“Didn’t you forget something?” he asked, puckering his lips at Harry. Laughing, the younger boy made a run for Louis, pressed a quick kiss to that sinful mouth of his, and then claimed the bathroom to take a shower.

He could definitely get used to getting up like this every day.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh GOD I can't believe it's been almost three months since I updated this, I am so sorry! I know many of you were excited for upcoming Larry fluff, but since I haven't found myself in the position to write that - I'm really, really bad at writing happy scenarios as you might now -, I decided to skip this and give you a bit more progress in their relationship. Yay. SO, I hope I'll be able to update more frequently throughout the next six weeks - summer break!  
> Feedback is, as always, greatly appreciated, and I haven't read this over so I'm sorry for any bigger or smaller mistakes. Enjoy!

Good times usually had the tendency to be gone much more quickly than people wanted them to. That’s what happened to the Tomlinson’s spring break vacation, too. First Harry and Louis were just lazing around in bed exchanging kisses and not wanting to get up and face the day, and then suddenly they had to pack their things again, load them into the Tomlinson van and Louis’ car and prepare to leave for Doncaster again.

In between, Harry was having the best time he’d had in years. Louis and he spent all their time together, they were basically joined by the hips. They went on long rides with Don and Emma, and sometimes the girls accompanied them. They went on trips with all their families: to the nearby town or down to the small lake in the forest, where they ate ice cream and laid around in the sun all day, sometimes fooling around with a guitar, playing football or badminton. One evening, Louis took Harry on a small date, just some pizza at a small restaurant followed by a movie that Harry had always wanted to see. And usually they were always touching in one way or another: holding hands, wrapping their arms around each other, cuddling, kissing. They were taking it slow, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t make out on the bed more times than necessary or that Louis didn’t suck a small hickey into Harry’s neck just below his curls.

And Harry loved every single moment of it. The teen was a lot better than just a month before, and it wasn’t just due to the medication. He was a long way from being permanently fine, permanently fixed, it was still a question if he could ever get so good that he would be able to go off meds again. But he was getting there, he was gradually getting better and better. His smiles weren’t forced anymore and he laughed a lot more often. He was even brave enough to push up his hoodie’s sleeves one afternoon when Louis and he were riding out all on their own – and he felt so good when Louis didn’t care, didn’t even look twice, just ghosted his fingertips over his scars gently, hugging him tightly and kissing him a bit harder than necessary. Louis was never anything but good to him, and it made him feel a bit more ok with himself. For the first time in a long time, he felt loved again.

To be honest, Harry didn’t want to go home. Of course he missed Niall; he had only exchanged a handful of texts with his Irish best friend throughout the week, and he wondered how he was. Niall had told him that he was getting a lot better, too, that his hair already started growing back, just a bit of soft furry hairs on the top of his head, and Harry wanted to see it himself. He also wanted to gush with him about Louis, how cute he was being and how quickly Harry was falling for him.

But here, at his grandparents’ place, Louis wasn’t afraid to hold Harry’s hand. He wasn’t afraid to show just how much he liked Harry, and he didn’t care what his family thought about them. He didn’t even try to hide their relationship, instead seemed proud of it. He didn’t behave like the Louis he was in school once in the time they were there. The Louis that was with Harry here was cheery and giggly and gorgeous, not arrogant and much too popular.

And Harry was pretty sure that this would change once they came back home, once school started up again. He already knew that Louis was afraid to show that he as much as respected him whenever he was with Stan, Liam and Zayn, so what would happen when they came back and they were a couple? Harry didn’t want to lose Louis, and he didn’t want to find out what would happen once they arrived back home.

He wouldn’t admit he was afraid, but he was worried nonetheless. And he’d told himself he would talk to Louis about it; he’d told himself he would ask Louis not to be as awful to him in school as before, and to ask him what they would be doing in school and everything. Harry just wanted to share the worry with his boyfriend and get rid of that stupid uncertainty. But he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it. The time they were spending together was too precious, and he didn’t want to destroy the happy bubble that was surrounding them. And so he didn’t voice it, and now they were in the car back home.

This time, Harry and Louis were alone in Louis’ car, the backseat full with luggage and the Tomlinson van full with their sisters. Maybe Jay had organized it like that on purpose, Harry thought for the hundredth time. That woman was far too smart for both of them, and she knew far too much. Harry was glad though. It was peaceful: the car was filled with the All Time Low album Louis had turned on, and sometimes one of them would sing along to a few lines together, but mostly they stayed silent. It was the perfect occasion to ask what had been burning on the back of Harry’s mind for the past couple of days, Harry realized.

“You’re thinking too loud, Haz” Louis said before Harry could work up the courage, though. He shot the younger on the passenger seat a short, soft gaze and a small smile.

Harry shrugged, stayed silent for a second, his eyes focusing on one of the airbag stickers on the dashboard that were slowly peeling off. Then, he admitted to it slowly, ever so slowly. “What will happen when we come home?”

And he could see Louis tense, saw that gorgeous half-smile slip off his gorgeous face. Harry had known this would happen – and that had been why he hadn’t asked the question earlier. “Harry –“

“I don’t want no excuses, Louis” Harry interrupted him. “You know that I care about you really much. But I also know how you behave in school. I’m not asking you to quit everything and admit to me completely. But I don’t want to go through the halls anymore and be afraid what will happen if I come along your group of friends. I don’t want to pretend to hate you anymore. And, most of all, I don’t want to be afraid to lose you anymore.”

Louis’ fingers reached over the middle console then, even though he couldn’t look at Harry right now because, well, he was driving. He looked solemn though, and very serious. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to fear to lose me. I’m with you, and nothing can change that. And I know it’s going to be hard, but I can’t –“ He interrupted himself, sighed heavily. Harry squeezed his hand gently. He wasn’t angry at Louis, he couldn’t be if he tried – the elder hadn’t done anything wrong, per se. “I can’t promise you to be just the way I was the last days – you know as well as me that that’s impossible. But I will promise you to do my best. It will be ok, alright? We’ll figure something out.”

Then Louis looked at him, just for a second, and they smiled at each other. Harry believed him. It would be different, sure. That wasn’t something they could – well, it was something they could influence, but they had no other option but to do so. But they were strong, they would fight, and they would figure something out. It would be fine. They would be fine.

“Okay” Harry said, squeezing Louis’ hand again before letting go. Time Bomb was silently playing in the background.

They were silent for a few seconds, but this time it felt like they wanted to say more, just didn’t know how exactly they should. Harry mouthed along to the words that Alex Gaskarth sung in his ear. Damn, if only he had a voice like that man. _It was like a time bomb set into motion, we knew that we were destined to explode .._ Harry didn’t find it quite as ironic as it was.

“Next year” Louis suddenly spoke up, and Harry flinched a bit, surprised by the words of the older and caught off guard. “It will all get easier. I mean, as long as I manage to graduate. In college I won’t have to hide anymore. It’s like a new start, you know? I can finally forget about everything, and then I can finally be who you want me to be.”

Harry looked at Louis, and he couldn’t help but be surprised. “Don’t you plan on going to college with Zayn and Liam?”

Louis chuckled. “Oh Haz, there are many things that you don’t know.”

“Why don’t you tell me, then?”

“Would you tell me all the secrets Niall has told you?”

Harry shook his head without hesitation.

“See” Louis answered. “That’s why I won’t tell you.”

Harry looked at him for a long second, but in the end he shrugged him off. He didn’t know how Louis could actually like these people. They were violent and rude, and they’d been nothing but assholes to Harry ever since he’d seen them for the first time. Louis was so different to them, he didn’t fit in – but, no, that was wrong. There was a Louis that was actually even worse than them. But that wasn’t the true Louis, but he doubted that there were any other sides to Zayn and Liam.

Still, Harry didn’t dare voice these thoughts. Louis hadn’t changed, meaning he was really protective about the people he cared for. And he obviously cared for these two boys, though Harry couldn’t understand it in the slightest. But something had to have shown on his face when he thought about them because Louis reacted.

“I know you don’t like them. But they’re not half bad once you get to know them. Actually, I think you should meet them sometime. Like, really meet them.”

“Have you lost your mind?” The words slipped from Harry’s lips before he could stop them, and afterwards he blushed. “Sorry. But still – I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Louis threw him another short glance. He was in the process of passing by a big, slow truck and had to concentrate on the traffic. “They’re not … see, I know they hurt you.” He changed the lanes again, now in front of the truck. “But they’re not like that. It’s – mostly it’s Stan, you know? He’s the boss, the real boss, and under his pressure, people pretend to be things that they aren’t.”

Harry shrugged. He didn’t understand. Why did these boys let that one person influence them so much? What made Stan so scary that they didn’t even dare talking back to him, disagreeing with him? He didn’t say any of these things; it wasn’t his place to do so. “Louis, you don’t get it.” He said. “I’m afraid of these boys. They hurt me bad and I’m just now getting better and – I don’t think I could handle it right now.”

Louis smiled at him slightly, even though he was obviously disappointed. “It’s ok. I’m not pressuring you into anything, we already talked about that. But I want you to meet them eventually, and I want you to wrap your mind around it, alright?”

Harry tried to smile, but it was short-lived and awkward and generally fake, like in the old times. It felt weird and foreign on his features, and his fingers came up to card through his hair to distract himself. “I’ll try, ok?”

“That’s all I can ask for” Louis seemed a bit sad now, and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Harry could feel them drifting apart already. He looked out of the window, watched the trees on the side of the highway pass them by quickly, blurring together from their speed. He hadn’t wanted to go home, and now he remembered why. This was just ... this wasn’t good, and it wouldn’t end well. It really wouldn’t.

Song passed into song, and soon they had to change the album because Dirty Work was over and they had already listened to it twice. Louis only turned on the radio instead of putting in another record. They were almost home already, and Harry recognized roads and street names. He quickly typed out a text to Niall saying that they were almost home and whether he should come over later. It was early afternoon already, but neither Jay nor Maura cared too much when Harry stayed at the Horan’s flat until the beginning of the night, something around 10pm or so.

Since the boys had driven without a longer break, they were home earlier than the rest of the family. They barely spoke more than a few muttered words when they left the car, took some of the luggage from the backseat and carried it up to the front door. Harry couldn’t help but feel that it was his fault – he was the one who had brought the topic up in the first place, the one that refrained from meeting his boyfriend’s best friends.

Then, when they had put down the first bags in the hall and Harry wanted to go outside, he felt Louis’ fingers wrap around his gently. “Harry” Louis’ voice was low and soft, and Harry’s heart felt constricted, his throat felt too tight when he turned around and met those gorgeous blue eyes that he could drown in every time he looked into them. Louis’ hands lifted up to frame Harry’s face, and Harry couldn’t help but enjoy the touch. His own hands came up to caress Louis’ bare, freshly tanned forearms.

“You need to believe me – we’ll be fine. I care about you so much I doubt it’s quite healthy, and I don’t want to leave you. I will make sure nothing and nobody will hurt you, especially not me. We will make it. Do you believe me?” Louis words were spoken solemnly and his eyes not once left Harry’s, instead boring into his unblinkingly.

And Harry knew that he shouldn’t trust Louis, not when school was about to start and he knew about the spell Stan had on him, but he couldn’t help it – not with the memories of the past week so fresh in his mind, not with the feeling of his hands on his cheeks and his skin under his fingers, not with the way his words were ringing in his ears, and especially not with the way his eyes were so warm and open and right away honest. And so he nodded, slowly. “I believe you” He breathed out. Louis smiled at him timidly and then pulled him down so he could kiss him. Harry still wasn’t over the fact that Louis was so much smaller than him, and he couldn’t help but smile into the kiss when he felt Louis lift up on his tip toes.

Louis pouted when he realized that, breaking the kiss. “Shut up” he grumbled, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck for more leverage.

Harry chuckled, grabbing the elder’s waist and pulling him in closer. “I didn’t say anything.” He replied before kissing him again, still smiling slightly. He was head over heels and it probably wasn’t healthy, to use Louis’ words, but he couldn’t help it.

It was Louis. It had always been him. It would always be him.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAH guess who's back. It feels SO GOOD to finally be able to write again. I'm sorry that this is kinda short, but at least there's an update ;) enjoy and leave some feedback ^^

The rest of the family had barely arrived home before Harry had already asked Jay if he could go and meet up with Niall. He was so excited to finally see his best friend again. He had only realized that when he was already back and Niall had answered his text from earlier that yes oh my god, he was to come asap, no objections. He wanted to know how he was and he wanted to see he was doing ok and he wanted to see his hair growing back and just everything, alright? He cared about Niall hell of a lot, and it had been too long.

Jay obviously didn’t object – she knew about all this, and she wouldn’t deny Harry that. She told him to be back at nine pm latest because today had been long enough already as it was, and then she let him leave. Harry barely shot Niall a text saying he would be there in ten before climbing onto his bike and driving over to Niall’s quickly. It was funny how utterly familiar this way had become to him in the past few months – it was like he’d always known it, always taken it.

Harry’s heart was beating excitedly when he jumped up the stairs to the flat of the Horan’s. He pressed the doorbell and he honestly shouldn’t be surprised when it was answered almost instantly. He basically ran up the stairs, and he was only slightly out of breath when he reached Niall’s floor. The boy couldn’t keep his grin at bay when he spotted the blond boy in the doorframe.

“Hazzaaaa!” Niall cheered, and he threw his arms around Harry’s neck, pulling him into a warm hug. Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around Niall. The boy was still skinnier than he was before the last chemo, but –

“God, Ni, you look so much better than before” Niall wasn’t as skinny anymore, his bones not jutting out as much anymore. Also his skin had lost some of his pallor, instead the old rosy shining was back in his cheeks. And of course, his eyebrows and lashes had barely grown back and Niall had hidden what little hair he had on his head with a bright green beanie, but it was a lot better than before.

Niall blushed a little when the two boys let go of each other. “Thanks Haz. You look good, too. You got yourself a tan, pretty boy.” He emphazised it with a poke of his finger into Harry’s cheek, and Harry laughed heartily. “Whoa, and he can laugh. Goddamn, you need to come in and tell me everything right fucking now”

Niall basically dragged Harry over to his room, while he was barely able to shout a Hello to Maura. And this was exactly why he enjoyed being around Niall so much – Niall had just gone to chemo and it still wasn’t sure whether the good progress would stay or whether he would need a better treatment, yet he was so incredibly cheery. Harry just loved being around his best friend because no matter how bad he was, Niall’s laugh or one of his hugs never failed to lighten his mood. Not that he was bad right now, but it felt a bit more like everything would be fine when he had the Irish boy on his side.

Niall shut the door behind them and didn’t even bother to turn on some kind of music before they sat down on the bed, Niall leaning against the headboard and Harry sitting cross-legged in front of him. “So, loverboy, I want to know all the dirty details.”

“Oh my god, no, Niall!” Harry groaned, blushing embarrassedly. “There are no dirty details!”

“Tell that yourself, Harry, just don’t expect me to believe it. I want to know what happened with you and Louis, come on”

And so Harry told him everything, from the ride on the first day to the way Louis found out about the medication to the way they had that kind of argument just this moment. Harry was talking more animatedly than he ever did, using his long arms to flail around, form gestures that didn’t really have any meaning. He was kind of surprised to see himself like this, too, but he was pretty sure it was due to his medication.

Harry didn’t notice Niall watching him until the older boy stayed silent after Harry had finished – minutes later, actually – and his eyes were kind of focused on Harry but kind of zoned out, too. Harry decided to, quite literally, snap him out of it with snapping his fingers in front of his face, almost hitting him in the nose in the process. Niall flailed, just a little bit, but his eyes came into focus.

“Dude, you kinda, like, zoned out there” Harry pointed out with a small chuckle.

Niall blushed, his hands coming up to pull his beanie down a bit more. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just that I have never seen you talk this animatedly. Like, of course, I know you’re getting mood blasters prescribed now and everything but damn, Harry, you’re almost as bad as me when it comes to talking too much now!”

They both laughed about that joke, but then Niall got a bit more serious again.

“I don’t know why you like him, really.” The Irish boy said. Harry had expected that reaction from Niall – because the blond boy had in the end been the one to pick up the pieces when Louis had shattered him, over and over again. Of course Niall would be cautious – Harry had been, too, so he couldn’t really blame him.

So Harry shuffled a bit closer, until his knees were touching Niall’s. “He’s really different around me. You heard it – he’s so sweet and caring and … Ni, he makes me feel loved. He always makes sure I’m comfortable around him and never pressures me into anything. He makes me feel a bit more confident about myself.” And then his small smile – the smile he was always wearing when he was thinking or talking about Louis – merged into a dirty little smirk. “He also kisses really, really well.”

“Harry!” Niall exclaimed, flailing a little bit away from his best friend, and Harry laughed.

“No, I – I can’t really explain it, you know? It’s like there are two Louis’s – my Louis and then that Louis that everybody knows. And I hate the Louis everybody knows, sure; but when he’s around me, he’s never like that anymore.” Harry probably sounded like a love-struck teenager. But hell, wasn’t he just that? And it was his best friend he was talking to, he could behave like a thirteen year-old girl with a crush. Niall wasn’t much better at times.

Niall rested his hands on Harry’s knees. “You’re cute when you’re falling in love, dude.”

Harry blushed, but shook his head. “I’m not falling in love, Niall.”

“Noooo, never, not you, Styles, not you” Niall replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Harry knew he was right. He was falling, and maybe he’d only know toppled over the cliff and there was a long way to go until he reached the bottom and could call it love, but he was already on the way there. He was in no position to admit that, though, neither to himself nor to Niall. So he just shook his head again, wordlessly for once.

They were silent for a second, and Niall was the one to break it, his light blue eyes boring into Harry’s. “Just – does he really make you as happy as you seem to be?”

“Yes” Harry answered, not hesitating for a second. It was the truth – he was the happiest he’d been in a long time, and it was all because of Louis.

Niall smiled, and he took Harry’s hands and entwined their fingers. “Then I guess I can’t object your relationship, can I? You’re my baby boy best friend and it’s really nice to see you like that – not even I managed to make your eyes shine like that, and you totally had the biggest crush on me.”

Harry squeezed Niall’s fingers. He noticed how they were so different from Louis’ – Niall’s were big and bony, with rough fingertips from playing so much guitar, while Louis’ were soft and slender, so small against Harry’s own long fingers. “I had” He chuckled. “And then you kissed me.”

Niall gaped at him. “Are you saying I’m a bad kisser?” Harry only smirked. “You are saying I’m a bad kisser! Oh my god, you’ll pay for that!” And he jumped at Harry, tackling him to the bed with his full body weight, straddling him before tickling his sides and stomach. Harry let out the most embarrassing of sounds and soon enough, the tickle fight was on with full force. Harry tried to fight back, but Niall had definitely the better position, with him straddling Harry and everything.

It wasn’t long before both boys admitted defeat and fell down onto the mattress side by side, grinning and gasping for air. It was nice to see Niall with so much energy – only a month ago Niall’s body had been too weak to do anything like that. Harry looked at the Irish and shot him a bright smile, and looked at the ceiling again. “You’re a dickhead, y’know?” he said, breathing heavily.

Niall laughed. “That might be true – but I will still kick Louis’ ass if that dumbass hurts you.”

“You sound like an overprotective mum, Nialler” Harry pointed out.

“And I’m damn proud of it” Niall rolled around, throwing an arm around Harry’s middle. “Are we gonna play Fifa now or what?”

Harry pushed the beanie over Niall’s eyes, earning a protesting squeak. “You only want to kick my ass – you know how bad I am!”

“A fault confessed is half redressed” Niall deadpanned. “And now come on, you know you can’t say no to me”

Harry laughed, but still sat up again to watch his best friend turn on the console. He wasn’t going to object him – not when he was still asking himself what he would do without that dorky, hyper-active, gorgeous little Irish boy.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know I know I said I was updating more quickly YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME I'm so sorry. It's just I had this really bad hanger where I didn't know what to write? Well, I exactly know what to write but that's like ... it only fits in a few chapters later and so I needed ideas for the chapters between. This one is a bit ... well, these are basically just filler scenes that ghosted through my head and I'M NOT EVEN SORRY OK also be excited for the next one you'll like it. It's almost finished, but I won't upload it today so I can fill the space should I not be able to find the idea for the chapter after that ;) enjoy and leave feedback, the usual :)

Chapter 31

The morning Harry had to return to school, he woke up to feather light kisses covering his face. He was still tired, his body not used to getting up at six in the morning, so the only response of him was – at first at least – to grumble inaudibly and try to shove away the intrusion to his peaceful, relaxing, calm, happy sleep.

“Get up, sleepy-head, it’s school today!” Louis chirped happily, in high spirits. Harry planted his palm flat on the elder’s face to get him away, all the while turning his head to not be attacked by him anymore.

“Go’way” he grumbled. He didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to go to school like, at all. It sucked that vacation was over, and it sucked that he had to go back to this hellhole of a place you were ought to learn in peace. What sucked most was that most likely it wouldn’t take long before they wouldn’t wake up like that anymore, Harry was sure.

Louis laughed, and the hands that had before pressed into the mattress now pressed into Harry’s sides to tickle him. “Come on come oh-on!” he sing-sang. Harry squeaked, trying to get him to get out of his boyfriend’s grip – but he Louis was straddling him and he was not just in the upper hand but also stronger than Harry.

“Louis!” Harry complained, out of breath. “Get away, I’m getting up, I’m getting up!”

That’s when Louis let go of him, partly at least, and instead just grinned down on him. “Good” he said, only then clambering to get off the young boy beneath him. Well, he wouldn’t, but Harry wasn’t yet ready to let him leave. He took a hold of his waist and held him back, leaning up a bit more and smiling back at Louis softly.

“Good morning Lou” he murmured, kissing him for a second. Louis smiled into the kiss, and one of his hands came up to caress his cheek. This was how Harry loved to wake up – he’d never thought he’d have this, but now he had, and he didn’t want to give this up again.

“Good morning Haz” Louis replied happily, before jumping off him. “Now hurry and get ready, we’re leaving in an hour!”

“Not everybody needs as much time getting ready as you!” Harry shouted after the older boy, and the laughter of not only him, but Jay and Fizz as well rang through the house when Louis went back to his room to get ready like the big girl he was.

 

The two of them came to school a bit earlier than usual – not just earlier because it was the first day of school and they wanted to meet up with their friends after spring break, but earlier than that earlier just because. The ride there was quiet, and Harry couldn’t help but let the tension overtake him, couldn’t help but be both worried and scared. He wished he could seek comfort in Louis’ touch, but he wasn’t quite sure whether he was allowed that now.

And then, much too soon, they reached the school. Louis turned off the engine, but neither of them made a move to leave the car. Louis’ hands fell from the steering wheel into his lap, and it took him a few seconds before he could turn his head and look at Harry. Harry looked back at him, but his moves were hesitant. He didn’t know what he was expecting.

“Are you scared?” Louis asked him silently.

Harry shrugged wordlessly. He didn’t know what to say. Anxiety was filling him, only slightly numbed by his medicine. He was pretty sure without his meds he would be a mess right now.

“It’ll be ok” Louis said then, and his hand reached out, grabbed Harry’s, squeezed it. “I’ll make sure they won’t pull too much crap on any of you anymore.”

Harry nodded silently, and his gaze fell down to Louis’ hand that looked so tiny in his own huge paw. He wondered just how long Louis would stay true to this promise.

Louis smiled meekly, and leaned a bit closer to Harry. “Do I get a kiss goodbye now or what?”

That got him at least a tiny smile from Harry – kissing Louis would never get old, he was pretty sure of that. “Come get it” Harry replied, and Louis didn’t hesitate before leaning in, cupping Harry’s cheek with his free hand and pressing their lips together sweetly for a couple of seconds.

“Remember I have footie practice tonight – you don’t have to wait for me if you don’t want to” Louis said when he pulled away from the younger.

Harry nodded. “I have to do some readying anyways, I can wait for you” he told him with a smile. Of course, he could always walk, the weather promised to be good later that day, but he wanted to spend as much time as possible with Louis – and he silently enjoyed most of their car rides now that they’ve got their shit together and finally sorted themselves out.

“Ok” Louis grinned and couldn’t resist but to peck Harry’s lips again before opening the door and getting out of the car. Harry mirrored his actions, and the boys traded another smile over the hood of the blue vehicle. “I’ll see you later, then” Louis said.

“Yeah” Harry shouldered his backpack and faced the school. “Bye Lou”

The elder was already running over to the first of his friends who was just arriving now though and most likely didn’t hear it anymore.

 

It would be a lie to say that being back in school was worse than Harry had anticipated. It would also be a lie to say that being back was just like Harry had thought it would be. Actually, it was really good to be back. As usual, Niall and he were ignored by ninety percent of the students, and Louis’ clique stayed away from them as well – at least they did on the first day. Harry survived until lunch period without getting shoved into lockers, without being tripped, without getting insults thrown at him. Of course, people looked – Niall was the weird guy with the cancer, they hadn’t expected anything else. But they were left alone, and that was more than the two teenagers could’ve asked for.

“I can’t believe I actually have to be thankful for your little lover boy” Niall said when they took their lunches out to the park to sit in the sun and enjoy the good weather outside.

“Shush!” Harry warned him sharply, looking around to make sure nobody had heard them. Maybe he was paranoid, but he preferred to call it cautious.

Niall rolled his eyes at his best friend’s antics. “Oh don’t be weird Styles, nobody cares who you snog, really.” Then he decided they’d found a good enough spot and just like that plopped down on the grass.

Harry folded his long legs beneath himself and shrugged. “But he cares, Nialler, and that means we have to be careful. I don’t wanna hurt him.”

Niall looked like he’d just eaten a lemon. “Yeah right. He would deserve it” The last part he muttered under his breath and Harry had trouble hearing it. He did, though, and he was pretty sure that a few short months earlier, he would’ve agreed with all his heart.

Now he shook his head. “He wouldn’t, and we both know that. You have to give him a chance.”

“Like hell I’d do that” Niall bit into the sandwich he’d brought with him before continuing. “You can like him all you want, I really don’t want anything to do with that prick.”

Harry scoffed, falling back on the grass and looking up at the sky. It was pointless anyways. Niall and he had agreed to disagree a while back. Louis was one of these topics they just couldn’t find a solution they both agreed with on.

They were silent for a few seconds, Harry barely nibbling on his lunch – he was getting better with his eating habits and he wasn’t as bony as before, but he was still just a scrawny kid with too long and too thin limbs and every meal was a battle to get enough down so nobody would be worried about him. They had never understood that it wasn’t an eating disorder, that he was just eating so little because he hadn’t known any different for years. That was the past now though.

A few minutes later, Niall’s phone buzzed once more – a thing that it had been doing all morning. Harry shouldn’t be so surprised. Of course the Irish boy had other friends than him, it was Niall after all. He was outgoing and funny and good-looking, of course people would like him. But Niall wasn’t one to text all the time; he was usually too lazy, especially in school. So whoever he was texting with, that someone had to be important.

“Who are you texting?” Harry finally asked, because it was unlike Niall to not tell him and also because he was really curious. Because Niall was smiling at the screen like he had never seen him do before.

“Oh, nobody” Niall had obviously finished replying because he locked the screen and slid it back into his pocket.

“Yeah, so nobody’s making you smile like a fool over there, right.” Harry said, and there was a sneaky little smile tugging on his lips. He wasn’t jealous, he had no right to be just as well as he had no reason. Niall was his best friend and he loved him, he wouldn’t leave Harry just like that. He knew that. Maybe a few months prior, he would’ve doubted it, but now? He knew better.

Niall nodded vigorously before picking up eating his lunch again. “Obviously”

“No, come on, tell me about them!” Harry insisted. He just wanted to know why his little leprechaun was so happy.

Niall shook his head. “Nope”

“You know that’s totally unfair?”

“Why – because I know of your ridiculous soul-mate-true-love-love-story between you and that fucker? That is so not a reason to tell you anything”

“No, but I’m your best friend and I want to know” He pouted now, used his puppy dog eyes. Usually, they always worked on Niall. Always, alright?

“Oh god don’t you dare use your puppy eyes on me, Styles – you know I can’t say no to them!”

Harry laughed. “That’s their purpose, you know?”

Niall sighed. “It’s nothing really. We’re just friends.”

At that, Harry lifted one of his very judgmental eyebrows. He was spending too much time with Louis, definitely. “But you like them.” He said. It was no question, he could see it in the resignation in Niall’s blue orbs when he said ‘just friends’.

“Him” Niall admitted quietly. Then he looked up at Harry, “He’s gorgeous, you would like him. We met at rehab.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about him earlier?”

“There’s nothing to tell: I like him, he’s straight.”

“So, rehab – does that mean that he’s got cancer, too?”

“No, he was at the hospital gym to rebuild strength – he had his leg broken, a climbing accident.”

Harry watched Niall carefully all the while. He knew him so well by now. But this was new. When he was talking about that boy that Harry had never heard about before, there was a dusting of red filling his pale cheeks and his eyes were sparkling with something that Harry hadn’t seen in there before. His smile was bright and happy, yet seemed smaller, more private, shyer than ever before. That was the look of a boy who was falling hard even though he wasn’t noticing it himself, and Harry had to admit that it suited Niall really well.

That’s why he smiled. “What’s his name?” he asked.

“Ashton” Niall said the name like it was something precious, a secret he wanted to keep. He was lost, that much was clear. He said he just liked him, but Harry was pretty sure that it was already more, even when Niall couldn’t see it yet.

“You know” Niall continued. “We should – “

Harry never found out what they should because that moment, Niall’s phone buzzed again and his whole body jumped before he scrambled to get the device as quick as possible. Harry only laughed at him, shook his head, and then laid back on the grass to stare up at the sky and enjoy the warm sun shining in his face.

 

The rest of the day went by quickly, and Harry had to really restrain himself to not tease Niall about his crush all day. It was too adorable to watch – every time he got a text, he would light up completely. Harry hoed that the other boy would like Niall back. He deserved some happiness. Especially now, when he had just survived another round of cancer treatment.

Harry spent the time waiting for Louis in the front yard of the school, sitting beneath one of the trees and reading. Time went by quickly even though he had to read the book for school and he hadn’t yet decided whether he liked it or whether he wanted to burn it. The longer he read, the better it got though. He could live with reading it.

So before he knew it, the boys from the football team were crowding into the car park, driving off home or to their girlfriends or whatever jocks like them did. Louis came with the last group and then spent some time just sitting in his car, waiting until everyone had driven off. Only then harry dared to get up and walk over to Oscar.

Louis’ eyes were on him already when he slipped into the front seat. He didn’t know what he was expecting – but it was definitely not a soft smile and shining, warm blue eyes. “Hi” Louis said softly. Harry couldn’t help but smile back, repeat the greeting. For long seconds, they just stayed like that: sitting, watching. Harry looked for a trace of the Louis he’d spotted in the halls a few times today, but he couldn’t find them on those gorgeous features he had mesmerized by now. It made him feel better. A small part of him had been afraid of a sudden change in his boyfriend, but it wasn’t there.

Louis was the first to look away, and he checked if they were alone in the parking lot before leaning across the middle console, grabbing Harry’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss that was just a little longer and harsher than Harry would’ve thought. Not that he was complaining. He smiled into the kiss, his fingers ghosting over Louis’ arm.

“I missed you today” Louis admitted quietly. “We should hang out later”

“Yeah” Harry breathed, leaning back into his seat and buckling up when Louis started the engine. “We definitely should.”


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I've hit post limit on Tumblr BUT I NEED TO SHARE THIS. Also I thought about, like, posting another chapter every few days, but I can't do that because I finally want to get this over and done with, alright? So, what I've been trying to say. I sat down today, and I wrote, and I did it: I finished it. I will upload all the missing chapters now.  
> THIS WILL BE THE LAST ONE DIRECTION FANFICTION I WILL EVER WRITE, I am really sorry.

Chapter 32

Harry had never been in Louis’ room ever since he moved in with the Tomlinsons half a year prior. He didn’t know why. First it was because he was afraid of Louis. Then they had just always hung out in the living room or Harry’s room. Then they hadn’t spoken. And then .. well, it had never happened, that’s what he was trying to say. That was why Harry was just a teeny tiny bit nervous when Louis pulled him up the stairs.

The two had barely arrived home before dinner had been ready. It was loud and happy as always, everybody sharing news, asking questions, talking over each other. Harry participated a lot more than he’d ever done before, or at least he felt like it. Fizz and he bickered over the new How To Train Your Dragon movie that would be coming out soon because while Harry was really excited for it, Fizz thought that it could be really boring because after all DreamWorks wasn’t all too good with proper, interesting plotlines in sequels. Harry obviously disagreed. He enjoyed himself greatly.

Soon, dinner was over. Harry was not too unhappy that it was Lottie’s and Fizz’ turn to do the dishes – Louis wasn’t the only one who had missed their alone time today. Harry didn’t even have a chance to think about going to his room – to set down his school bag, to change into some more comfy clothes, maybe to collect his guitar or his drawing things or something – and then Louis pulled him up the stairs.

His room had been under the roof all the time, even when he was just seven and only then moved into the house, when his parents were still together and the twins not even born. The last time Harry had seen it, the walls had been bright yellow with some green patches, and a blue carpet. There had been lots of legos and Playmobil and all that stuff that kids loved to play with, and it had been really messy. The stairway had stayed the same, and that was probably why Harry was so surprised when he saw the room now.

The only things that had stayed the same were the windows – two on the sides, up high and angled with the roof, and one across the door, big and wide, looking over their neighborhood – and the blue carpet. But the yellow color on the walls had been replaced by a light blue, fitting with the carpet. There was a big desk beneath the big window, messy with school stuff, a computer screen and a keyboard perched on top. The right side of the room was covered in bookshelves – they were filled with books, cds, games and dvds, and in the corner between that wall and the door was the big closet that contained Louis’ clothes. Harry didn’t want to know how messy it looked inside. On the left side of the door was the bed – a big one, not quite big enough to be a double bed, but one where two persons could fit pretty comfortably. And there on the left wall was also, besides some drawers where a sound station was sat upon and Louis’ guitar, standing a piano. Of course Harry had known Louis played piano, but he never thought the older boy owned a real piano. A keyboard, yeah, Harry even remembered he used to have one, but not a piano.

He was stunned. Really. The room was as spacey as he remembered it to be with the high ceiling and most of the furniture placed against the walls. And it wasn’t exactly clean either – there were clothes and magazines strewn across the floor, but he’d seen the room in worse conditions. And it wasn’t like his room was any better. The thing he liked best about the room though were the posters on the walls. There were some photos of important memories in Louis’ life – photos of places he’d been, people he was friends with, his family. But most of the walls were covered in posters of various bands. Harry spotted The Ramones, The Offspring, The Fray, Secondhand Serenade, but also All Time Low, Green Day and – was that an AC/DC poster? Well, he really liked it.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” Louis sniggered, effectively ripping Harry out of the trance he’d fallen in when he’d entered the room. Harry was startled – he hadn’t even noticed he’d stopped to stare. It had obviously taken some time, too, because Louis was looking too damn amused.

Harry blushed a little bit, but it was an unconscious action. He was allowed to look, he hadn’t been in here in a really long time. “I like your room” Harry admitted. Now that he looked at Louis, he noticed the small couch in the corner besides his desk, barely more than a loveseat – it was almost completely hidden beneath mountains of clothes and books.

“Thanks” Louis closed the door now that Harry moved out of the way. Only then the older boy stepped closer to Harry, looking up at him with a soft expression, his hands coming up to rest on Harry’s sides. “I like it better when you’re in it”

Harry chuckled, “Sap” But his hands still came up to frame Louis’ face, and he still leaned down to meet Louis’ awaiting lips. Harry maybe wasn’t as experienced as his boyfriend, but he’d learned quite a lot throughout the time they’d been together now, and Louis never complained so he couldn’t be half bad.

The kiss was unhurried, languid and soft, and Harry could easily get lost in it. His fingers slid into Louis’ hair, the soft brown strands he was becoming quite obsessed with, while Louis’ fingers gently slid up and down his sides, his back. They took their time just molding their lips together, until their lack of oxygen became too much and they had to break the kiss. Louis let his feet land on the floor again completely, and he looked just the right amount tousled and flushed to be downright unfairly adorable when he smiled up his gorgeous crooked smile at Harry.

“I can’t believe it’s only been a week” Louis admitted finally with a small chuckle. He stepped back from Harry, but only to let himself fall onto the bed and offer Harry the space beside him.

Harry followed with little to no hesitation and stretched his body out on the bed. Louis instantly curled into his side, and Harry wrapped both arms around the older boy gladly. “Yeah, me neither. It seemed kind of like an eternity” It was weird to think about it. It had only been a week since he kissed Louis, it had only been a week since he’d finally gotten what he’d silently – and mostly unknowingly – wanted for so long.

Louis sighed, his finger drawing little circles on Harry’s chest. It was no unhappy sigh, though. “I’m so glad I’ve got you now” And then he twisted in his position again, just a bit until Harry and he were face to face. He smiled softly, his eyes more than his lips. “You don’t know how happy you make me” And then he kissed Harry again, soft this time, moving lips promising so much more than words ever could. Harry kissed back eagerly, one hand in Louis’ neck, one still on his shoulder. He was already addicted to his kisses.

The kiss deepened when Louis swiped his tongue softly over Harry’s lips, and Harry instantly parted them further, welcoming Louis in his mouth, meeting his tongue with his own halfway. Louis shifted again, threw one of his legs half over Harry and laid a bit more over him, pressed him into his mattress while he supported himself on his elbows on the side of Harry’s head, his fingers buried in the messy mop of curls. Harry in return let one of his hands slip onto Louis’ back, holding him close while he let Louis explore his mouth for what must have been the hundredth time but still felt like the very first.

It didn’t take long of that making out for them to be both breathing heavily. Louis by now had straddled Harry completely and Harry had his hands, brave as he was, under Louis’ shirt so he could touch the smooth, warm skin of his back that he was just a little bit obsessed with as well. He couldn’t get over Louis and how everything about him was just perfect and flawless. And this gorgeous boy was his. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

Louis hummed softly and then broke the kiss. His lips instead pressed kisses along Harry’s jaw, and then down his neck. There were feather light touches, barely there, and hot open-mouthed touches with just a flicker of tongue or teeth both, and it drove Harry mad. His grip on Louis tightened as he tilted his head back, offering his boyfriend better access to the skin of his neck. Harry couldn’t help it – he was a teenager, just a teenager. And maybe he wasn’t that sexually active as other boys in his age, barely jerking off, only now in his first relationship and all, but he couldn’t care less. He wasn’t ready to let Louis undress him and everything, but he was ready to let the boy move the neck of his hoodie to the side to expose his collarbone and press kisses along it.

Harry was honestly a little surprised when Louis’ teeth closed around a small patch of skin there, latching onto it while he sucked gently, his tongue sweeping over it as if to soothe the slight stinging sensation. A little gasp made its way past Harry’s lips before he could stop it, and he dug his fingers into Louis’ back. It wasn’t that he wanted the older boy to stop – it was just foreign, and he hadn’t thought that somebody sucking hickeys into his skin could be such a hot feeling.

“You like that, huh?” Louis teased after he was happy with his work, and his breath felt cold on the wet skin where Harry knew was a bruise without having to look.

Harry half-glared at him. “Shut up and kiss me, asshole” And Louis didn’t let himself be told twice. He dived in again, and their make out-session continued. The kisses they shared altered between deep and hungry, rushed and eager, and languid and passionate. Their hands wandered, explored, just a little bit, and Harry didn’t even jump to bad when Louis got brave and brushed his fingertips past the hem of Harry’s hoodie to caress his hip, instantly hitting scarred skin. Louis didn’t take his hand away and Harry relaxed slowly, soothed by the way Louis changed the tempo of the kiss into something soft and reassuring, loving.

Still, after that they slowly came to an end. They didn’t know how late it was, but a lot of time must’ve gone by judging by the way the room was almost dark because there was barely any light outside anymore. Neither of them cared though. When they broke apart, Harry just tightened his grip on Louis and slung his arms around him, keeping him in place, and Louis let loose a little chuckle before burying his nose in Harry’s neck without complaint.

“You’re so cute” Louis said eventually.

Harry blushed. “’m not”

“Oh, but you are” Louis replied, and he lifted his head to press a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “I’m gonna make you see that. You’re a gorgeous boy and you don’t deserve this” Louis’ thumb swept across a thick scar on Harry’s hipbone. Harry hadn’t even noticed that the fingers were still on his skin that used he’d gotten to them there. “You have no idea how glad I am that the meds are helping you, that you’re finally getting better. I was so worried when I found out about your –“

He couldn’t say it, but that was ok. Harry understood him without it. He smiled, and his heart swelled at the words. He couldn’t explain it. Louis was so sweet, so caring. He was so happy to be here, his pulse still a bit too quick from the kisses they’d shared before and from the words his boyfriend just told him. It showed him that Niall had no right to be so negative about Louis – because Louis was so much more than the jock he pretended to be in school.

“Thank you, Louis” Harry murmured, pressing another sweet, short kiss to Louis’ red, swollen lips. “Really – without you, I don’t know where I’d be now”

Louis blushed, and his face showed guilt that had long ago settled in his bones. “You’d probably be a lot better.” He said, his voice s tiny Harry barely understood him.

“No, don’t say that” Harry said, tightening his grip around the small figure on top of him. “You were an asshole, yes, but we’re over that. I forgave you because you made it ok again – you saved me, too, remember? If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be half as happy as I am right now.” It was the whole truth. Louis was the best thing that had happened to him, Niall coming in on a close second. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. You could rather kiss me some more” Harry offered, a little smile tugging on his lips at that.

It made Louis laugh. “I’m kind of really screwing you up there, aren’t I? You used to be so damn innocent, and now you make out like a god” But he still reattached their lips for a few seconds, still smiling against Harry’s mouth. That was better.

Harry hummed contently, but didn’t complain when Louis settled on top of him again – this time he shuffled so he didn’t lay right on top of Harry, but more on his side, though one of his arm and one of his legs stayed thrown over him, effectively holding him on the bed. Not that Harry even considered moving. He pressed a soft kiss onto Louis’ messy fringe where it rested on his chest.

“What time is it?” Louis asked eventually. Harry shrugged, and then looked around until he found the alarm clock sitting on Louis’ bedside table.

“Just past eight” He said. Had they really just made out for two hours straight? Whoa.

Louis groaned. “I need to write an essay for tomorrow.”

“I need to finish another two chapters of the lecture ‘til tomorrow” Harry retorted. “We should probably get up.”

Louis groaned, buried his face deeper in Harry’s chest. “Don’t wanna”

Harry didn’t want to either, but his teacher would slaughter him. “Lou.” He said. Louis didn’t budge. “Louis” Still nothing. “Do I really need to tickle you to get your ass off me?”

“You love my ass on you” Louis muttered, what made Harry blush and snort all the same. But he still didn’t move.

“I will so tickle you to your death.”

No, Louis wasn’t moving. So Harry stayed true to his words and dug his fingers into Louis’ sides to tickle him. He swore he’d never seen Louis move up and off the bed more quickly.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you've read the previous update.

Chapter 33

Surprisingly enough, that was the trend for how the week continued: Harry and Louis were, well, some kind of on cloud nine? In school, they couldn’t be together, but Harry waited for Louis until he was finished with football practice, and then they spent the evening together. Watching movies, doing homework, sometimes even making music, and all the while sharing cuddles and kisses. It was that kind of relationship that Harry had always dreamed of, even though they had to keep it behind closed doors. He was ok with that, really.

Niall was surprised, on the one hand. The blond boy had never thought that Louis could make his best friend so happy, and he didn’t like Louis like, at all. He had never kept that secret, always told Harry right in his face. But that view had to change when Harry continued to come to school happier than Niall had ever seen him, with sparkling eyes and new make-out stories to tell. Harry had the feeling that it was finally going uphill. And he was proven right once more when they’d been back to school for almost two weeks.

Louis and he were sitting in Louis’ car, just driving around mindlessly. Louis was one of these people that stupidly loved driving, and so he took Harry out for a ride Thursday afternoon – they’d gotten dinner at home and then taken off, just them and the music playing in the background. Louis had hooked up his ipod to the radio and played The Pretty Reckless in the background; Harry hadn’t known them before, but damn that girl had one of a voice.

“Do you want to come to the match tomorrow?”

The question came out of nothing. They had chatted a bit before, but the ride had quickly fallen into the comfortable silence that surrounded the two boys in the car most of the time. And then, in the middle of – well, Harry didn’t know and didn’t care too much -, Louis rushed out the question, looked at his boyfriend quickly.

Harry thought about it. Of course, he would love to see Louis play. It had been a while since he’d seen the elder with a ball on his feet, but he knew for a fact that he was some kind of a god on the field. Harry had loved watching Louis’ games when they were younger, and while Harry was hopeless when it came to sports, he quite liked watching football on tv when Niall forced him. In primary school, he’d never missed a match just so he could see Louis beam while playing and score like it was his only purpose in life.

But on the other hand, Harry really didn’t want to go there all alone, just to be seen by everybody. The bleachers weren’t too big, and most of the team would most likely spot him. And that meant no good things, because the rest of the team always meant trouble. Harry really didn’t feel like being beaten up and called mean names again, and that would most likely happen would he go there. So Harry hesitated, watching the hands in his lap.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Louis said after he waited a few seconds. “I would understand if you said no. I just – I would be happy to have you there, you know? You could even bring the Irish boy if you like.”

Honestly, Harry didn’t need to hear that he could bring Niall. Because as soon as Louis said that he wanted Harry there, there was no question anymore what he would do after school tomorrow. He couldn’t deny Louis anything, not anymore; it was a curse sometimes, but Harry just wanted to make him happy. So he looked up and sent a small smile at Louis’ profile. “I’ll be there” he said.

“Really?!” Louis really squealed like a baby. They were lucky that the traffic light just turned red and they had to wait, because he flung himself at Harry and peppered his face with kisses. “Thank you thank you thank you oh my god you have no idea what that means to me!”

Harry giggled, his hands coming up to card through Louis’ soft brown hair when he kissed him, short and sweet. “Everything for you, Lou-bear”

Louis positively beamed at Harry and right there, that was the reason why Harry couldn’t say no if he tried – just so he could watch that smile and be the reason behind it. It was a damn good feeling. They kissed again, just a short peck that Louis pressed onto Harry’s lips before he sunk back into his seat so he didn’t miss when the traffic light became green again.

“You’re literally the best, Haz, I don’t know how I deserve you” Louis said, and Harry laughed.

“No, you definitely deserve better, that’s right.” He replied. Just because he was generally better, didn’t mean he loved himself now. Louis wanted to give something back, but Harry interrupted him. “It was a joke, alright? Don’t get all worried on me. I’m getting better now.”

Louis sighed. “Yeah. I know. Sorry.” He smiled, reached over, entwined their hands.

Harry squeezed Louis’ hand gently. “Can I put on some good music now?” He asked, waving through the air with the Green Day album Louis always kept in his car.

“But The Pretty Reckless are good music!” he exclaimed, obviously shocked.

“But I can at least sing along to Green Day!” Harry argued.

Louis shook his head in resignation. “You’re helpless” But he still let Harry turn off the ipod and put in 21st Century Breakdown instead.

 

Harry was still surprised that Louis had asked him there when he and Niall tried to find ok enough seats for them the next day. It was a big risk they were taking. It would look suspicious as fuck when Harry was watching the game of his “main enemy” without even so much as a family member there who could have dragged him there. But while he was nervous, he was also kind of excited.

“I can’t believe you dragged me here” Niall complained again. They sat at the very back of the bleachers, in line of the middle line – they would be able to see everything.

“It’s football, you love football. And it’s gonna be good football – they’re the favorites for the championship this year, y’know?” Harry told his best friend, offering him a can of Monster on top. Niall had developed a weird love for the energy drink, no matter how many times Harry told him that it probably really didn’t help with the whole cancer situation.

Niall took the can and opened it quickly to chuck down the sugary liquid. Harry was still sure you could burn holes into your clothing when you spilled it. “Yeah I know – I’m here, aren’t I? But you owe me, big time.”

“But I bought you Monster!” Harry pointed out. “And crisps. And jelly beans. Isn’t that enough?”

Niall shook his head vigorously. “You will eat some of that, too, so it doesn’t even count!”

They bickered on like that and so neither of them noticed that the two teams that would be playing emerged the locker rooms again – they had come purposely late and only sat down when the teams were done warming up. Only the whistle of the referee shook them out of their little argument.

Harry’s eyes instantly found Louis. He looked good in the dark blue and black trikots of his team, Harry noticed. He generally looked good, already slightly sweaty and completely concentrated. So obviously Harry’s eyes stayed mostly on his boyfriend – his damn pretty boyfriend – while Niall followed the game. As usual, the Irish had comments to everything that was going on and complained that the teams sucked because there were many mistakes and he could’ve done so much better. Niall would make a good bad coach, should he ever decide to go into sports teaching.

Harry didn’t know much about football. He didn’t get the purpose why twenty-two persons ran after one ball and tried to score, and why only the person protecting the goal was allowed to use their hands. But he didn’t have to understand it to see that their school easily took the lead in the match. They were passing far more balls, running less and still being mostly in the half of the other team. Harry saw Liam in the goal, Stan in the defense, and Louis and Zayn in the middle field. The offense was taken by a friend of them, Andy, but he didn’t know any of the other players. Not that he cared too much.

The crowd started cheering when Zayn took the ball from one of the opponents and passed it to Louis who instantly started dribbling down the left side, towards the goal. Harry and Niall were on their feet just like the rest of the local fans. It looked so easy, the way Louis wriggled through the defense, the ball always securely on his feet. Harry was amazed by the way Louis moved, the way he danced with the ball. It was – beautiful? Amazing? Gorgeous? Overwhelming? Harry loved it.

Louis didn’t score that time, but it didn’t take long for the Doncaster high to take the lead with one of Louis’ shots. This time, Stan was going down the line, and only passed Louis the ball when he was already in the penalty box. Louis hit the ball just right, and though the goalie jumped after it, it hit the net in the upper left corner. Harry whooped right along with the rest of the fans. He watched, with a big grin on his face, when Louis was surrounded by his teammates, when he was being celebrated. They had only played ten minutes, and already leading.

Over the back of one of the boys that was hanging off Louis while they were celebrating, Louis found Harry’s eyes. Harry was surprised – when had Louis seen him? But he quickly hurried to grin at him brightly, and send him a thumbs-up. He was so proud: that was his boyfriend, his! He had known that Louis was good, but he’d never thought he would be this amazing.

The two teams returned into their separate halves for another kick-off, and Niall elbowed Harry in the ribs. “Your boy over there” Niall had to shout, because the noise of the crowd still hadn’t died down. “I have to admit he’s a damn good player”

Harry grinned brightly. “I know” And he was all his.

For the rest of the game, Harry enjoyed himself greatly. He still loved watching Louis play football, that hadn’t changed one bit in all those years. He also had fun just listening to Niall. He was vocal and totally hilarious and entertained everyone sitting around them with his sarcastic, loud, utterly Irish comments. Despite everything he had thought before, Harry had a shitload of fun there, watching Louis and his team play. They were really good, he had to admit, and they were a real team that played together – it was like they were one force working together, not just single individuals trying to pass the ball.

So it was kind of self-evident that they stomped the other team – Harry learned that they were the team of Conisbrough high school during half-time – into the ground easily, winning the game with seven against two. And four of these goals were scored by Louis. It was really obvious that he would totally get the scholarship he needed as soon as one of the talent scouts so much as laid eyes on him. He was talented and he used both head and heart on the field.

It made Harry want to kiss him breathless, and he did just that once they were home hours later, in the security of their home where they could forget about prying eyes and judging minds and just be the boys they were and would always be.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you've read the previous updates.

Chapter 34

_**From:** Harry_

_**To:** Niall_

_Hay man I’m bored wanna come over?_

_**From:** Niall_

_**To:** Harry_

_A is over. He says its no prob tho. U mind?_

_**From:** Harry_

_**To:** Niall_

_No I wanna meet him :)_

_**From:** Niall_

_**To:** Harry_

_Good :3 well be over in 15_

 

Only then Harry realized just how much of a mess his room was. He’d never been much of a dirty person – but up until now he’d never had that much stuff that he could fling around. But since he moved in with the Tomlinsons, his wardrobe had doubled in its size – at least – and he had lots more books and drawing utensils, not to speak of his laptop and phone and all the wires belonging to that.

First, Harry made his bed – very important – and then shoved all the dirty clothes in a basket in a corner – he would have to wash them later. The clean clothes, he folded and put away, then he piled up his drawings and put them into drawers. While cleaning the mess on his desk, he also found the pack of new photos he’d just picked up a couple of days before – Louis and him on vacation, the twins on vacation, Fizz and he on vacation, general photos of the horses and the family, Niall and him at random times and places. He decided to put them up on the wall over his bed because he still had a couple minutes to spare and his room looked decent enough …

Just as he had the last photo up, the doorbell rang downstairs, and Harry leapt off his bed, throwing open the bedroom door and rushing down, completely forgetting to check his appearance in case he looked stupid. But it was a Sunday, he’d just showered and he was wearing skinny jeans and a sweater, so it couldn’t be too bad. “I’VE GOT IT!” he yelled through the house, because he was almost as vocal as the rest of his family now.

When he opened the door, he was slightly flushed and breathing just a bit quicker than usual, his curls were in their usual disarray and a crooked grin spread across his cheeks, showing off his dimples. “Hellooooo” he greeted brightly.

“Heyo” Niall replied. He looked good – you could see the first strands of blonde peaking out the hole of his snapback which he was wearing the wrong way around today. Most of all, he looked really happy hanging out with his crush, and it made Harry smile even bigger when they hugged. “Harry, this is Ashton. Ashton, Harry”

Ashton was a tall guy who couldn’t be a day older than Harry or Niall, slender, but not bony, obviously toned, with tanned skin, blonde curls sticking out beneath a black Fall Out Boy beanie and bright golden eyes. His smile was shy, yet honest and bright, and he had little dimples etched into his cheeks. He was gorgeous, Harry had to give him that. And he wasn’t unaware of that, judging by the light blue ripped skinnies and the black v-neck t-shirt he was wearing.

“It’s really nice to meet you” Ashton offered Harry a hand and a smile. “I’ve heard a bunch of you.” His accent definitely wasn’t British, but Harry wasn’t going to point that out. Instead, he gave a smile right back and shook the hand he was offered, firmer and more confidently than he would’ve two months ago.

“It’s my pleasure” he replied. “Niall won’t shut up about you”

Niall blushed a bit, exclaiming a warning “Oi!” Harry chuckled, and Ashton laughed right along with in.

“Come on in” Harry said, stepping aside so they could come in. “You can take your shoes off but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you want anything to eat or drink before we go to my room?”

Ashton shook his head, and Harry glanced over at Niall. At the boy’s hopeful expression, Harry had to laugh yet again. “Yes, Jay made cookies again. Yes, I will get you some. How about you show Ashton my room, and I go fetch them real quick?”

Niall nodded eagerly, toeing off his shoes. “Come on, Ash, I’ll show you around.”

“Is that really ok?” Harry heard the boy ask, but he already made his way over to the kitchen. He found Fizz there, sticking her head into the freezer.

“You won’t find anything in there” he told her. “Jay has to go grocery shopping tomorrow”

Fizz grumbled. “But I’m hungry.”

“I kept some cookies for Niall” Harry pulled the bag out of the cabinet where he had hidden them, and he watched his sister’s eyes widen amusedly. “You can come join us if you’d like.”

Fizz nodded eagerly. “That’s great thanks!”

“Can you fetch some cola, please?” Harry smiled at her, putting the cookies on a plate so they could grab them more easily. “Let me warn you though, he has his boyfriend-to-be with him, I gotta check him out so I can set them up later.”

At that, Fizz laughed, grabbing a bottle of cola and four glasses. “You’re such a matchmaker!” she exclaimed. “You’re almost as bad as Louis!”

Harry laughed, remembering the awkward dinner when Lottie had her newest crush over last week and Louis had shot question after question at the poor lad all night. “I gotta look out for my best mate, Fizz – you of all people should know that”

“Yeah but I failed!” she complained while they carried the stuff they were holding upstairs. “You’re still going out with that dickhead of my brother!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Everybody keeps warning me off him!” he whined.

“Well, maybe you should listen to us for a change – we might have a point, you know”

In that moment, they reached the door, and they were interrupted by a loud excited squeal that really didn’t sound boyish at all. “OH MY GOD COOKIES!”

Harry chuckled, handing Niall the plate. “But you gotta share with Fizz and Ashton, alright?” he warned his best friend, and Niall pouted just a little bit before he nodded and shoved the first of the baked goods in his mouth.

“Ashton, this is my sister, Felicite. Fizz, meet Ashton” Harry introduced them. Ashton who had found a seat on Harry’s desk chair, stood up to shake the hand Fizz offered him after putting the glasses and the cola on the desk, smiling and mumbling a greeting. Fizz did just the same before she settled next to Niall on Harry’s bed, grabbing a cookie as well. Harry decided to just sit on the windowsill, watching the people in the room.

That was how he was comfortable – together with his mates, enjoying himself. Fizz and Niall bickered over the cookies, and Ashton only got one because Harry fought two of them out of Niall’s watch for them. Harry, nibbling on his cookie, decided to watch the boy that had so quickly taken over Niall’s mind. As to the looks, Harry could totally understand Niall. Ashton was cute – nothing compared to Louis, but cute enough. And so far he’d been kind and nice, so that was a plus as well. Harry watched him carefully, only when Ashton didn’t notice it. Well, he didn’t really seem to notice anything in the room except for the other blonde head in the room. Niall had lost his snapback halfway down the run, and he looked kind of really adorable with the small amount of soft curls on his head. He was just his usual self, chatting with Fizz over everything and nothing (the two were really getting on too well, Harry should be afraid of the moment the two decided to pair up against him).

“So,” Harry cleared his throat. “Ashton”

Said boy turned to Harry, offering a smile, but neither of the teens on the bed paid any attention to them – the cookies weren’t empty yet.

“Where do you go to school?” Harry asked.

“Bentley High” Ashton answered. “You go to school with Niall, right?”

Harry nodded. “That’s how we met, actually.”

“He told me” Ashton told Harry, and Harry froze for a split second. But he was getting better at behaving in the right way, so he just tried to keep his cool. “He told me you were the only one who was nice to him after he transferred there.”

“It was the other way around” Harry admitted. “He kind of saved my ass, so I owed him.”

Ashton smirked, and his gaze was dragged back to Niall. His face seemed to soften once he looked at him. “Yeah, he does that a lot” Harry just looked at Ashton again. “You know, I met him in rehab. I fell – I go climbing with my dad a lot – and broke my leg, and then when I was in gym about like, a month ago or something, I met this weird Irish lad. I can’t seem to get rid of him ever since.”

Harry laughed. “He can be clingy sometimes, I totally agree.”

“It’s not a bad thing” Ashton said.

That’s when Niall perked up. “Who’s clingy?” he demanded to know.

“You” Harry and Ashton answered simultaneously, sharing a look and then laughing.

Niall pouted. “I see you two get along really well”

Harry chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be my favourite best friend”

“And what about me?” Fizz asked.

“You’re my favorite sister” Harry blew her a kiss.

Fizz laughed. “Don’t let Daisy hear that. Or Phoebe, so help me god! Anyways, guys, it was really nice to hang out with you, but I really need to finish that dumb chemistry project now, so I gotta leave you alone now.”

“Have fun” Harry said, giggling when Fizz glared at him.

“Thank you, Harold” she snapped, sassier than her big brother could possibly be. Then she smiled at Ashton. “It was nice meeting you” She shortly squeezed Niall’s shoulder when she got up from the bed and then sauntered out of the room.

“I really need to pee” Niall grimaced after he’d chugged down the cola in his glass. “I’ll be right back” And so, sooner than Harry had thought, he and Ashton were alone in the room.

“So …” Ashton said, picking at a loose thread on his knee.

“Do you like Niall?” Harry rushed out before he could regret it. A flush spread across his cheeks, but he knew no other way to deal with it. He just needed to know.

Ashton blushed, too, not meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry wondered whether he looked the same when he was awkward around other people. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not for him, no” Harry smiled slightly. “You should talk to him, you know? He’s kind of head over heels for you.”

“But –“ Ashton ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just really confusing right now.”

“I know right.” Harry stared out the window, and Louis’ face flashed before his eyes. “But it’ll be worth it.” Ashton nodded, and again they were silent for a few seconds. “Just know that I’ll rip your balls out and feed them to you nicely roasted should you dare hurt him.” Harry warned Ashton in the end.

That brought a loud, boisterous laugh from Ashton, and he grinned at Harry. “I’ll make sure to remember that.” He chuckled, shook his head. “You’re a good friend to him, really. I would be jealous if it wasn’t so good for him.”

It was Harry’s turn to blush. “Like I said – I owe him, big time. He’s just –“

“Fabulous? Totally breathtaking? Flawless? Really awesome?” Niall barged into the room again, lighting the whole room up with his grin. Harry laughed, but Ashton looked kind of awkward. Surely he asked himself right now just how much Niall had heard. Harry asked himself the same, too – his warning hadn’t been the best, honestly. He’d come up with much better thinking about it.

“In that order, dear” Harry replied, still laughing.

“Hah, I knew it!” Niall pressed a hand over his heart. “You two are such curly-haired, dimpled sweethearts, let’s be honest!”

Ashton and Harry shared a gaze. It was funny how easy they got along, really. But maybe it was because they weren’t all too different; at least not when it came to Niall. And since they both shared the object of adoration, they had no other chance but get along well, right? Still, Harry was surprised. He had never really been one to make friends, not even when he was still just a kid who had all his family. He’d had Louis and that had been enough. But things were changing now, things were getting brighter every day, and honestly, he was damn proud of that.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you've read the previous updates.

Chapter 35

Things had been too damn good for a while now, Harry should’ve anticipated it. Louis and him had been together for a little over a month now, and though it was hard, hiding it in front of everyone and all, they were really damn happy. The hickeys on Harry’s neck could affirm that, as well as those he had sucked into Louis’ collarbone, barely visible for anyone but those who knew where to look.

The only thing that wasn’t really good was the relationship of Niall and Ashton – the three of them hung out together more often now that they found out that they actually make a really good team, and Harry more often than not felt like the third wheel when he was with the two lovebirds. But they still hadn’t gotten their shit together, no matter how many times Harry told them that they were totally head over heels for each other and didn’t need to fear nothing. It was kind of adorable, but also really unnerving.

So yeah, life was good for Harry. He shouldn’t have been surprised that it decided to take a turn then. Fate had never liked him – that was no fucking surprise. He should’ve anticipated it, watching his back just waiting for destiny to fucking stab him in the back. But no, he was just a happy naïve kid, going to school with his best mate and spending his time at home with his gorgeous, caring boyfriend who was so different at school. He had gotten too comfortable.

And he regretted it the second he heard that first shout rang through the hall during lunch.

“Hey, faggot!”

Harry flinched at the voice, so utterly familiar after all these years. He didn’t need to turn around to know that they were talking to him. He could feel himself tense, he could feel the fear – blank, blinding fear – rise from deep in his guts. His meds couldn’t help him if he didn’t have control over himself. But how was he supposed to control his body when all these old feelings – things he thought he’d gotten rid of – came crashing down on him again?

He was alone that day: Niall was at another check-up, so he had been excused from class again, and neither Ashton nor Fizz were going to his school. Well fuck, he thought, and he tried to stay calm, tried to concentrate on keeping both his breathing and his pulse calm as he turned around.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you, dumbass!”

Harry’s eyes scanned the hallway and of course Louis wasn’t around. Stan would never dare talking to Harry like that when Louis was around nowadays. Louis had never seen the impact he’d had on the bully, but Harry had noticed. When Louis was around, Stan would keep his mouth shut, only glare at Harry. But when he wasn’t there …

But Harry could live with some insults thrown at him. He used to be used to that.

“Where’s your gay little boyfriend, huh? Did he leave you alone? Got bored of your depressed ass, didn’t he?”

Harry swallowed hard. Liam and Zayn also weren’t there. They had slacked off the most, and he almost understood from everything Louis had told Harry about them. They were just like Louis – pressured, afraid, in love, different. Harry thought that this kind of bullying they were experiencing was far worse than what he was getting thrown at; at least he was being himself all through the process.

“Look at me while I’m talking to you, you homo”

That was when the first punch was thrown. Harry didn’t recognize the boy whose fist collided with his jaw, but he didn’t need to – it was one of Stan’s puppies. He felt like was going to be sick, just from that thought. The pain made him whimper, but he wasn’t going to fight back. There were four boys crowding him against the locker – he didn’t have a chance.

“I said –“ Harry was shoved up against the locker. “Fucking look at me! Don’t you understand? Idiot”

Then, they continued in throwing punches at him. It didn’t take long until Harry was laying on the floor, curling up against the wall to try and protect his head from the fists and feet raining down on him. He felt helpless and sore and he was pretty sure he was crying. Everything had been going so fine. He had been so happy, what had happened now? What had he done to deserve this? He wanted to cry. He just wanted to cry. But first, he wanted them to –

“STOP! Goddamn fucking shit, get the fuck away from him!”

What? Harry startled at the familiar voice, but he didn’t dare look up from where he’d hidden his head. He was pretty sure his lip and eyebrow were bleeding, and his stomach had gotten some good punches, too. There would also be a huge bruise tomorrow where his hipbone had collided with the cold, hard floor. He didn’t even want to think about how much worse it would have been had he still been cutting.

“What do you care, man? Let me finish this”

“No, Stan, this is enough! Don’t you see how badly you’ve hurt him? YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!”

There was the sound of rustling and fussing, and Harry had to peek, he had to take a look. Now he saw why none of Stan’s puppies were beating him up anymore – Louis stood between them and him. Yeah, right – his Louis. He had obviously just shoved Stan away, and the other looked at him in open disgust and anger. Harry sat up a bit, wincing at the pain. But he had to see. His heart was racing, from pain – and from fear. Louis was risking everything right now. Oh god, what was he doing?

“What do you think you are doing? How DARE YOU protect this fucking little faggot? Are you telling us you’re another worthless piece of homo-shit just like him?”

Louis glared at him, and Harry saw the tense line of his shoulders trembling. “Yes” Louis finally spat, after horrible seconds of silence, and it rang loudly in Harry’s eyes. “And you know that even though I might be a ‘fucking faggot’, as you call it, I will fucking kick your ass and then I will fucking dance on your goddamn grave!”

After he shouted that, obviously enraged, the hallway fell silent with a distressing sense of finality. Louis was breathing heavily, staring at Stan, and Stan stared right back at him. His puppies were already backing away – they had respect for their captain, probably even feared him. You didn’t want to fuck with Louis Tomlinson, Harry could tell you best. But no, Stan stayed put, glowering.

“You dumbass piece of shit!”

Harry couldn’t tell who of the boys jumped the other first, but he was pretty sure it was Stan. Then, it was a blur of flying fists and tumbling to the ground, wrestling in the worst way, rolling on the floor. Harry quickly scrambled out of the way when they crashed into the lockers, but he couldn’t just flee. He couldn’t leave Louis alone right now. His eyes were glued to the boy on the floor, unable to look away. His blood was rushing far too loud in his ears, so he didn’t hear the sounds they were making. He was in some kind of trance, and part of him worried if he had smashed his head on the floor too hard and got a concussion. But that was just a far away thought while he concentrated on Louis.

Louis who soon had Stan pinned to the floor. “Listen here, asshole” He growled. And Harry had never seen him so intimidating, enraged and absolutely terrifying. “In the future, you will stay the fuck away from him, and from Niall, and from me! You will leave us alone, me and everyone who dares being different because it is oh so dangerous, and should I ever so much as hear about you harassing anyone on this school again, I will send you six feet underground, you hear me?” Stan only watched, panting. “YOU HEAR ME?” Louis screamed. When Stan nodded quickly, Louis got off him with a huff. “Pathetic piece of shit”

And then he surprised everyone yet again. Louis didn’t elbow his way out of the circle that had formed around the fighting boys, but he went over to where Harry was standing. Harry who was still in a trance, only watched wide-eyed and only came back to ‘consciousness’ when Louis’ hand touched the side of his face gently, wiped away the sticky mess of dirt, tears and blood.

“Come on” Louis said, his voice calm and gentle, his eyes big and blue and soft and a hundred percent Harry’s Louis. “Let’s get you cleaned up” He entwined their fingers, pulling Harry behind him to the nearest boy’s restroom. And Harry, Harry was still dumbfounded. He couldn’t understand what just happened. Louis had just defended him in front of the whole school. He had just beaten up his so-called best friend because that boy had beaten up Harry. He had just – he had just come out, admitted their relationship to everyone.

“Louis” Harry mumbled. Oh god, what had he done?

“You better shut up now, Harry” Louis said, dragging him further down the halls, and only when he locked the door behind them, he stopped moving – it was like he’d stopped moving altogether. Harry could see Louis crumbling before the boy actually did, and only because of that he was able to catch him in his arms and pull him close. And then there they stood, just two young, broken boys, bloody and shaking with adrenaline and fear, clutching onto each other because they were all they had left. The last time this had happened was when Mike Switkovsky bullied Harry in second grade and Louis protected him.

“It’s ok” Louis murmured, and he didn’t know whether he was talking to himself or to Harry. “We’re ok” He was shaking in Harry’s grip, and Harry wrapped the arms around him tighter.

“Why did you do that?” Harry asked meekly, and he had once again to fight the tears from spilling over. He’d never been good at holding them in though, and he saw no real point in trying. He had every right to wail like a fucking baby now.

Louis pulled away then, and his hands cupped Harry’s face between them – a gesture Harry had become achingly familiar with, a gesture Harry loved and never wanted to miss again. “Why? Really?” Louis asked, and you could see the anger in his eyes again. “He has no right to hurt you like that. I was so scared, when I saw you lying there on the floor – you never defend yourself, I know that, but you didn’t move at all and – oh god, I was so terrified. Nobody hurts those I love.” Louis spoke firmly, and his mouth was set in a grim line that matched the harsh look in his eyes. But it wasn’t directed at Harry, not anymore.

Finally not anymore. “I love you” Harry whispered; it was the only answer that seemed adequate at this moment. He pulled Louis closer, pressed their lips together even though it hurt like a bitch where they were chapped. “I love you, you stupid fucker”

Louis couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “At least I’m your stupid fucker” he replied. “I love you, too, Harry. So much. Nobody will ever hurt you again. I promise you”

Harry sighed, launching in for another kiss – he did that a lot, kissing Louis when he didn’t know what to say. “But what about your football?”

“I don’t care” Now Louis disentangled himself from Harry. “I meant to tell you – I got a scholarship. At the Doncaster School Of Music.”

And just like that, everything clicked into place. Louis didn’t need football anymore because he had finally found another way. Harry hadn’t even known he’d applied for any not-football universities, but right now he could care less. Because Louis, Louis had just come out and then told him that he would stay in town for college. And now that Harry was finally able to wrap his mind around it, he realized something more.

“We’ll be fine” he mumbled.

Louis smiled ever so slightly. “You might want to get that jaw checked out, that bruise looks pretty bad. But yeah, Hazza, we’ll be fine.” And his smile broke into a full-blown grin when he saw Harry’s look. Full of awe, he looked at Louis, grinning at him foolishly before flinging himself at him all over again, here in this dirty boy’s bathroom in the stupid school, pressing kisses to his face and on his lips.

“I’m so proud of you” Harry said between kisses. “So proud. Love you so much”

Louis only pulled him closer, whispered his own “I love you”s.

They would be more than just fine. They would be perfect.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you've read the previous updates.

Epilogue

Harry had been a happy child. He’d had parents who loved him, and a sister who he got along with really well even though she was a few years older than him. He lost them all though when he was just a teenager, and his life had turned into a complete hell. He had been bullied, and he had to fight demons worse than they were shown in any horror movie. He was depressed, had an eating disorder, and had to constantly fight the urge to kill himself. He had countless scars on his body that could tell this story. The story of the broken boy who had nobody.

Never would Harry have thought that after his mother’s death, his life would take a full turn. He was taken in by the Tomlinson family – the family of Johannah Tomlinson who had been his mum’s best friend before she’d taken to alcohol rather than persons. The family of Louis Tomlinson, the boy who’d been his best friend before he’d decided it would be easier to hate him. The boy who’d hurt him on a daily basis.

There, he was met with four girls, the oldest, Lottie, his age, and three younger than him – Fizz by only a few years, the twins Daisy and Phoebe by a lot. They took him in when nobody else did, offered him a home, food, friendship. They took him in as a part of a family, and suddenly, he had not only one sister, but four of them, and they adored him greatly. And somehow, he managed to even get through to Louis. He learned that the boy who he’d thought heartless and an asshole, was just as broken and scared as Harry was himself. That didn’t mean it was easy for them, but they somehow made it.

Along the ride, Harry met Niall. Niall, a boy who was too cheery for his own good, who never shut up about food and video games and music – the only true important things in his life. Niall, a boy who was so strong, fighting a battle that was much more deathly than Harry’s dance with the razorblades could ever be.

And suddenly, Harry wasn’t alone anymore. He didn’t know how it happened. But suddenly, the lonely broken boy had a family who looked out for him and made sure he was ok, made sure he was eating right and seeing a therapist that could help with all his disorders. And he had that gorgeous best friend that he could share everything with, his fears and his love and his hate and his happiness. And he had Louis. He found Louis who would sacrifice everything just to protect Harry, who he fell in love with all over again.

It was kind of funny, Harry pondered. Had somebody told him a year ago that he would be here now, he would’ve laughed at them, not believing a word they said. A year ago, he would never have thought that he would have friends and a family, that he would be together with Louis whom he’d been so afraid of just a couple short months ago. So much had changed – but Harry wouldn’t want it any other way.

And of course, sometimes it was hard. He still missed his mum dearly, even though she’d been nothing but bad to him in the past years, and he wished he had his own family rather than the Tomlinsons. But it was how it was, and he didn’t want to have the time before back. Whenever he was feeling down, he had a mother to go to, a sister to comfort him and a boyfriend to distract him from his thoughts. And he had his best friend who he could always talk to. It was amazing.

And now, Harry could finally say it: everything was going to be fine. Niall had gotten notice that day that his cancer cells had completely disappeared. And he would have to be cautious, but it didn’t look like the sickness would return anytime soon. It had made Niall so happy that he had instantly rushed to Ashton and confessed his crush, and of course the two were battling Harry and Louis at the cutest-couple-contest now. Louis wasn’t thrown off the team, obviously not – instead, the coach kicked Stan off, and after that happened, Zayn and Liam changed a lot, too. They came and apologized dearly – and honestly – for all the shit they’d put Harry through in the past years. And then, Louis and Harry weren’t the only same-sex couple in the halls anymore. Stan tried to pull another stunt, but then he was just thrown off the school altogether. And Louis, well, he decided that this season would be the last with his team. He would study music in Doncaster, because they all loved his stuff there. He got more comfortable with letting people see what he wrote for guitar and piano, and that was the main thing Niall and he bonded over once Harry brought them all together.

It had been two months since the Stan-incident. Two months since Louis and Harry came home with dried blood on their clothes, split lips, Louis with a bruised nose and black eye, Harry with bruises on his jaw and cheekbone and a cut on his eyebrow. Two months since Louis had come out. And nobody had ever given them shit, like, ever because Stan was actually the only close-minded guy that was dumb enough to harass those who weren’t straight and ‘normal’. Maybe it was also because they were afraid of Louis, Zayn and Liam, but Harry didn’t care as long as he could hold Louis’ hand in the hallways and didn’t need to be afraid anymore.

And of course, next year he and Niall would be the only ones in high school, because Louis graduated this summer and Zayn and Liam – who they’d become somewhat friends with, what was kind of weird because Harry was used to the two boys trying to hurt him – right along with him. But they would be alright, because they had each other and they weren’t alone anymore, and nobody actually cared whether you were gay or not, as long as you didn’t give anybody shit about anything.

Harry finally, finally had reasons not to stay wordless anymore.

And for the first time in his life, he knew with all his heart that he would be ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. This is the story of Harry and Louis, including Niall, Fizz, Ashton and all the other side characters. There will not be a sequel. There will not be any up-following fics. There won't be any more One Direction fanfictions written by me. I'd like to say I'm sorry, but really, I'm not. I just want to take this opportunity and thank the one person who's always supported me in my writing progress, the one and only Tea (safebird.tumblr.com). Thank you for always being there for me, for being the Niall to my Harry. You've always been there to listen to my Wordless rants and to give me new ideas and inspiration. You're the best.


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